Scorched Imperfect
by dragonsdeed
Summary: AU. To some people, Natsu Dragneel is a freak. To some other people, Natsu Dragneel is an asshole. To her, Natsu Dragneel was the misfit who stuck his tongue at her, out of the blue. Curiosity killed the cat, and Lucy Heartfilia wants to know why. Why Natsu Dragneel acts the way he does. NALU and other ships.
1. Q&A

**Author's Note: Hello, everybody, again!~ It's dragonsdeed here! As much as I should be working on my other fabulous fanfic, The Dragonfeed. I got, well, distracted. But, if you like this one, check it out right away! And have fun with this story! Oh, this AU, too.**

**Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail, and not me. If I did own it, the updates would be a lot slower so yea.**

* * *

**ACT 1: Q&A**

She tapped her pen on her chin, thinking. She scribbled an answer on the blank of her test and moved onto the next question.

_#27. What are the basics of astronomy? Please explain each sign._

Her pen speedily rubbed the paper, her hand struggling to keep up with her thoughts. Astronomy was an easy topic to her. She didn't need to sweat about not getting an A+. She had studied it ever since fourth grade.

She flipped the test over and laid it on its back. She was done. Her head spun around then twisted to its original direction. She was first one done too.

She grinned, overjoyed.

Glancing at the little digital watch on her wrist, her smile brightened in contrast. She also had twenty minutes of class to spare.

Her hands guided themselves to the back of her neck. She leaned back in her chair, only the two back legs touching the ground.

She could relax as others around her panicked to fill in the correct answers. Genius was one word to describe her. The blond girl smiling to herself in the front row was another. All she knew that she was a hundred percent finished with her classes for the day.

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to herself in a room of people. She would have preferred the library, but this place would do. Scratching her ear and yawning, she lightly placed her head on her desk and closed her eyes.

Sleep. Since she was done, she was permitted to do that right? Her eyelids fluttered open for a moment to glance at the teacher with his legs kicked up on his paper–cluttered desk and a magazine in his hands. Laxus wouldn't mind, would he?

She shut her eyes again. No, he wouldn't. Laxus cares for himself and Fairy Tail. If it doesn't concern the two, he's out.

She steadied her breathing, her ears were pressed at the wood of her desk. Twenty minutes, Lucy. Twenty entire minutes.

A foot suddenly kicked the leg of her chair as her shoulders jumped, eyes cast open again.

"No sleeping, Lucy," she listened to a familiar voice that sat behind her.

She caved her arms around her head like a pillow, snuggling and over–exaggerating on how comfy she was, "Gray, you're just jealous that I'm done, and you're not."

A smug laugh quickly escaped from his mouth before he covered it up.

"Night, night, Lucy," he poked her with his pen in the back.

"Gray," she mumbled, shutting her eyes, "Go back to your test."

Another soft chuckle pressed her ears as minor scratching could be heard from behind her.

_Good luck, Fullbuster, on #27,_ she thought to herself.

* * *

In her hands were four different books; two rather large textbooks for her classes, one from the library down the street for her own personal entertainment, and a blue book that belonged to Levy which she was borrowing for now.

Her backpack was filled with even more of the dead–weight of textbooks. The bag clawed heavily on her right shoulder. There was only one strap to her little pink backpack.

In her mouth was a pink–colored lollipop which she found in her locker as a present from her brother. It stung with the taste of sugary, too sweet strawberries.

She moved the candy to the other side of her cheek, banging it against her teeth.

She strolled down the hallways. She was suppose to help Juvia with her cooking skills after classes.

The hallway she was on was fairly empty. Then again, this part of the school was always ghastly voided.

A minute ago, she stood in a crowded area crumbling with high schoolers who were either chatting or struggling to get somewhere. How did she end up here again?

She moved her lollipop again.

_Bang!_

A loud noise could be heard in the coming corner to her left.

She stared in its direction.

_Bang!_

Her chin was touching her shoulder. She sucked in a breath carefully, stilling watching that corner.

_Bang! Bang!_

"You little fucker!"

_Bang!_

The noise sounded like metal. Someone was punching a locker. She even heard a male voice too.

_BANG!_

A groan seized her attention.

She realized that she should investigate whatever laid behind the corner. Stiffly, she inched closer to the corner until her fingers pressed at the wall. Her head poked, quietly, from the sharp turn. She didn't dare to even blink at the scene she was witnessing.

A cobalt blue haired boy stood, his back facing her. He was wearing their school uniform.

Another boy in the same attire was beside him, leaning his back against the wall to the cobalt blue boy's right. A smirk glint his face. Purple hair with one white stripe.

Her eyes flickered to the pink haired boy, like them wearing their school outfit, lying down on his side. His teeth clenched together in agony, his eyes forcing to be shut. Is this?

Her breathing became unpaced again.

The cobalt blue boy kicked the pink boy's gut as another gasp of pain squeezed his insides.

"Haha!" the cobalt boy giggled, the joy in his tone made her shiver intensely, "Hehe, that's what you get, you freak. Don't you dare ever–"

He paused for a moment before swinging her foot back and jabbing the pink boy's stomach again, "Ever speak to me like that again. Imbeciles should never even look at me. I mean, peasants like your kind, shitty manwhore."

The revulsion and bitterness in the cobalt boy's voice soured the strawberry lollipop on her tongue.

The other boy laughed as if it was a little humorous video of a cat putting its paws into cold water.

These people were disgusting.

The pink haired boy hissed through his canines again but made no attempt on resisting the source of his physical pain. She didn't realize that she was biting her lip.

She opened her mouth, but the words refused to come out. Her fingers shook on the rough walls of the hallway. Even if she yelled, what would she say? What would she even do?

What was going to happen to her?

One more moan stabbed the pink haired boy, this time aimed at his right eye. The cobalt and purple boys snorted in their distasteful, horrid manner. The blue boy wedged his shoes into the pink boy once again, rumbling words she could not catch and understand. The pink boy struggled for air, wheezing with his eyes bloodshot.

One moment, she was cowering behind the corner with her mouth gaping open. The next, she stepped forward behind the cobalt and purple boy and thrusted her ten million ton backpack and four books at them as they screamed in surprise. The very next, they scurried away with the frozen glitter of shock and fear in their eyes while they retreated from the scene. Like cowards in pathetic guilt. Now she found herself huffing loads of oxygen, her ears bursting with the drumming of her heart.

The pink haired boy still laid on his side, holding his motionless body in a pause. His onyx deep eyes half–closed almost as if sleeping. Her eyes darted to him, unsure of what to do next.

They stayed like that for another minute, sealed in the camera–eye of a picture that was frozen in print.

The boy was first to melt from the ice glazed over his temple. He shifted his body to sit up straight on the floor. Her knees crumbled as she dropped to the very same floor. Her shoulders tensed, and her breathing uncoordinated.

He had bruises masking his face, a black eye developing on his right eye. His legs and arms were also shielded with the same black and purple. Her eyes traced back to his face.

At first, she expected a word of thanks and a hug. A hug that extracted the life out of her soul and tugged the strings of her heart. He would present to her the biggest and brightest smile in the world, correctly showing off his snowy teeth. She would say it was nothing and blush. Happily ever after.

Instead, she was handed something out of place.

The pink haired boy observed her brown eyes in a blank habit. His fingers brushed the floor, tracing imaginary letters and signs. Then she widened her eyes a bit in disbelief.

The pink haired boy stuck with tongue at her, a gloss of mischievous blaze sparked off his eyes.

The lollipop in her mouth slid from her parting lips. The boy caught the pink candy in his fingers, eyeing it extraordinarily before licking it then sliding it back in her mouth.

He stood up and brushed off his pants, despise he was just a minute ago being tossed around like a punching bag. He began to walk away from her, hands occupied in his pockets. The last thing she saw of him was him whistling while one hand pulled from his pocket and ruffling his hair. He turned his heels and disappeared into the corner, as if nothing had happened at all.

She sat there in silence, trying to swallow what she just witness.

She laced her fingers around the stick that held the lollipop he'd just licked with the tongue he'd stuck at her. She rolled the stick in a circle in her mouth, spacing out from the world.

The girl blinked before returning from her daze in awe. He acted like none of the events beforehand ever occurred. She blinked again. Why was that? Why did he act like that? Why didn't he break out in tears and wrap his arms around her neck? Why didn't he make her feel like a hero?

Why did he act the way he did?

The strawberry lollipop tasted awfully sweeter on her tongue.

Why did he do that?

* * *

She threw the stick away in the trash can, reluctantly. The stick that once held a pink lollipop that was licked by a pink haired boy.

Juvia was cleaning up the kitchen after their little cooking lesson together. Juvia had managed to make some "Gray–bread" and "Juvia–bread" with her help.

"Lucy," Juvia called for her throwing the last of the used, but now washed, pans into their original spots, "Are you okay? Juvia thinks you're a bit out of it."

She glanced at her, a flash of pink electrified her pulse, "I think Sting told me something, but now I can't remember it."

"Sting?" the blue haired, almost cobalt but not, girl blinked twice, all attention to her, "He probably told you to pick up some milk for his cat. He nagged to Juvia about it at the lockers."

Oh, that's right. Sting and Juvia are locker buddies. She almost forgot. A tongue and pink candy flashed in her head.

Go away.

She turned her head to stare at the wall to her left, pink tingling her cheeks at the mere thought of him.

"Lucy?" Juvia tilted her head at her friend.

"I've…" she looked back at Juvia then the wall, "got to go home soon so bye."

Juvia nodded, a smile emerging from her lips. Lucy started to walk toward the door.

Then, suddenly, the star of the swim team placed her hand on her hips while another held a finger at the blond, a radiance of iron jealousy polluting the air in the room, "Lucy! You are Juvia's love rival, and she refuses to let you go see her Gray–sama!"

The blond named Lucy laughed and strolled through her exit and waving a hand off to Juvia, raising her voice a bit so she could be heard, "Don't sweat it! I'm not your love rival anymore!"

"She's just making sure!" she listened to Juvia holler as she swung her backpack onto her shoulder, picking it off the spot in front of the door.

"Bye, Juvia!" she called after her friend, slowly walking from the kitchen door to the end of the hallway. Now she had to only hope her car was still in the parking lot by the time she got there.

* * *

Lucy ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She was at the supermarket with her backpack clinging to her shoulder and now picking up some groceries. In her basket was seven cans of cat food, one jug of 2% milk, a bag of apples, and some hair gel. There was only now three things on her to–get list; kiwis, mangoes, and pineapples.

She picked a nice–looking kiwi from the horde of kiwis. She threw it back in the horde and searched for another. In a matter of seconds, she had a little collection of four kiwis in a plastic bag, sitting with the rest of her stuff in her basket.

Mango time.

She strolled to the mangoes and ripped one bag from the bag dispenser thing. Picking random mangoes, not caring whether or not they were nice or rotten, she tossed them into one bag then the basket.

Luckily for her, the pineapples were sitting beside the mangoes. She held two decent pineapples by the little spiky leaf tops and dropped them into the basket. She fixed her backpack and swung her basket on her thigh, heading over to the cash register. And she knew exactly who was on duty as cashier today.

"Hey, Romeo," she said while thrusting her basket onto the counter.

The moody teen behind the register rolled his eyes, "What, Lucy?"

She pointed to her basket and looked at him, "Scanning time."

"Duh," he crossed his arms but quickly released them to start scanning her grocery items.

"Pineapples this time?" he raised his eyebrow, dumping the last of her stuff into another plastic bag.

"You know him, he has mood–swings," she shrugged taking out her wallet and eyeing the amount of money she had to pay.

"It's fifteen fucking sixty–seven, Lucy," Romeo gave her a look and extended his hand for her money.

She picked out some dollars and coins in her wallet, placing the money on his palm, "Cheap, cheap!~"

"No singing," he scolded her, making some quick button pressing with the register before holding out her change and receipt, "Eighty–eight cents is your change, like always."

"Thank you. Love you, Rome," she continued to chirp in a sing–song voice, grabbing her change and receipt. Sliding them into her pocket, she proceeded to collect her two bags of supermarket–brought items.

"Don't call me that, Lucy!" Romeo yelled at her, irritated, as she passed the automatically opening doors of the store.

She was totally Romeo's favorite out of everybody in the entire universe.

* * *

Lucy unlocked the door to her apartment as she was greeted by loud thuds and screeching. A blond haired mess followed by a red cat appeared in the doorway with what looked like cake batter smoldering their bodies.

"Oh, hey, sis!"

"Uh. Hi, Sting?" she tilted her head at the sight of them while a black haired boy and green cat in a pink frog costume peaked from behind the kitchen door. She shut the door behind her carefully, "What happened?"

"Uh, haha!" her older brother, Sting, scratched his head, awkwardly laughing, "Me and Lector were trying to bake a cake with Rogue and Frosch."

Rogue left his spot from the corner and stood beside Sting, explaining to her exactly what they were doing, "Sting left on the blender on high for too long, and Lector decided to steal the frosting box. I apologize, we were just trying to make a cake for your bir–"

Sting's hand speedily smacked Rogue's mouth and stopping him from talking anymore.

"Haha. What he meant to say was _Rogue_ left the blender on high for too long, and_ Frosch _stole the cake box. And forget the last sentence Rogue said, he doesn't know what he's saying."

"Okay?" she stepped into the living room, glancing at the kitchen in the same room, covered with batter.

Sting nervously looked right to left as Lector meowed at his socks. Rogue was muffled by Sting and made some weird, inaudible noises in the background. Frosch tried to get his frog costume off by rubbing the walls.

"You're cleaning this up," she looked at them, then realizing something, and held out the plastic bag in her hand, "Here's your stuff, Sting. I hope you like Justin Timberlake's hair gel brand."

"It'll do," he answered her, taking the bag from her and inspecting the contents.

As she was about to go upstairs and put her backpack away, she was stopped by Sting's complaining, "Lucy! You got Lector chicken! He hates chicken! He only eats pork!"

"So picky!" she yelled back at him, ignoring his childish protests and climbed the stairs then entered her room.

She opened then closed her door and loose air from her lungs. Her back pressed against the door, she let her feet slide, forcing her to drop down to the carpet.

Her pink backpack strap rolled off her shoulder. Pink haired boys.

She shook her head.

Shoving her backpack to the side, she stood up and hid under the covers of her bed. Any moment now, Sting and his best friend, Rogue, plus two cats would be barging in there with water guns, squirting them at her to persuade her to go back to the supermarket to get Lector some pork–canned cat food.

Too bad for them, she was going to call Gajeel to come protect her in return for some kiwis to give his beloved cat, Pantherlily.

What was up with boys and their cats nowadays?

* * *

Lucy ruffled her blond hair, fixing it into its signature half–do side ponytail. What wonders awaited her at school today?

She glanced at her pink backpack. Hopefully no more cobalt blue or purple with one white striped haired boys, especially pink haired, lollipop–licking, ones. She _was_ hoping to see her number one fan, Romeo, though.

Romeo was the best person to be around at any time.

"Lucy! Downstairs now!"

"I'm coming, Sting!" she strained her voice to respond to her only brother. Today, it was his turn to drive their car to school.

She quickly wrapped a blue ribbon in her hair then examined herself through her wardrobe mirror. Her uniform was nice and neat. Her hair was in tip–top shape. Now if only she could do something about that bored expression on her pretty face.

The blond girl in the mirror shrugged. She could fix it later.

"Lucy! I really need your _ass_ down here or I'm driving to school without you!"

Like a marathon runner, she slammed open her door and jumped down the stairs within five seconds time on the dot.

* * *

"Bye, Sting, I love you," she kissed her brother on the forehead while standing on her tippy–toes, swinging a ring of keys around her finger, "See you later."

Her brother scowled, his back leaning on their yellow buggy's car door, arms crossed, "Lucy, you only said that because it was your turn to have the car keys today."

"Uh–uh, it's because I'm a good little sister," Lucy smiled at him, her backpack dangling from her shoulder.

He puffed out his cheeks, grabbing his boring black backpack from the backseat, "Whatever. See you at four."

Her giddy smile faded as she blankly stated, turning from her sibling to the school's entrance, "See you at four."

The girl you knew as Lucy Heartfilia stared at the school's front door as students busily crowded round either talking or rushing to get somewhere.

She was one of the ones rushing to get somewhere.

Her fingers clasped around the car keys in her hand and stuffed them into her skirt pocket. Her other hand wrapped itself around her backpack strap. Don't look for pink haired boys.

She headed to the doors, careful not to accidentally trip over somebody's shoes.

"Lucy!" a white–haired girl stood in front of her, waving her arms.

Lucy hurried over to the girl, pacing beside her while they made through the school's hallways to their scheduled classes, "Hi, Sting's girlfriend."

Yukino flushed in pink like that one guy's hair, "N–No! I'm not into your brother like that."

"Into my brother like what then?" Lucy pulled hair away from her face, not looking at her acquaintance while walking and avoiding other people.

"L–Like," she paused, her hands covering her pink cheeks, "just friends, not anything else or anything. Not anything at all."

"Mm? You sure?" the blond scanned Yukino's expression in the corner of her brown eyes, "I think he's into girls with bleach blond that almost looks white."

She saw a spark, like the one that pink haired boy gave her, chisel off the insides of the girl's chocolate irises.

Fire.

"O–Oh really?"

"Yea," Lucy continued to mark every detail on Yukino's face, "I think it has some to do with our late father, Weisslogia, with his naturally snowy white hair from the time he was a kid."

She had also come up with the weirdest theory that her brother was solely interested in bleach blondes because his favorite model, Mirajane, had that signature snowy locks of hair. But, Lucy wasn't going to mention that. Not relevant information to the situation.

For a split second, Lucy had thought Yukino's bright bonfire was going to vanish, but instead it intensified. Adding firewood and kerosene to the already burning flames.

Yukino squeaked her shoes in a halt and absently presented Lucy her entire attention.

Her eyes were plagued with that fiery passion, almost like somebody had lighted one of those fireworks that came in a box and continuously fired multiple shots of colors each millisecond.

Lucy walked a bit ahead of the white haired girl then twisted her feet back to face her. They stood in a dead end hallway that lacked another soul within arms reach.

"Hey, Lucy," Yukino stared at her, unorthodox confidence suddenly climbing from the depths of her conscious, "Do you think Sting has a crush?"

Lucy nearly flinched. As hard as she tried to become untouchable, things always had a way of biting her deep under the skin. The confidence that Yukino, out of her restricted nature, pierced at her was something she could never match even as much as she wanted to.

It was simply just not in her nature.

The girl who was related to the so–called Sting Eucliffe bit her lip, shifting under pressure.

Lucy knew, clearly, that Sting did not have a crush at all in the current timeline. She had seen him in love before, and right now, he wasn't interested in anyone.

Then again, she couldn't just annihilate this white headed girl's ambitions with a simple answer of yes or no.

That was too cold even for her standards.

But if she lied to Yukino, she was just getting her hopes up.

Then, there was Sting's feelings to consider. What if he secretly disliked her? What if he liked her in an only friend kind of way? What if one of his guy friends had already claimed dibs on her?

What if he actually liked her?

Lucy pulled off the forced smile she'd practiced and perfected all her life. On the outside, it seemed sincere and endearing, but really, it was shallow and painfully strained. It was all acting.

She no longer cared if she just started a forest fire with her one lighted match.

"Yes, I do."

* * *

Her hand was on her face. Her class at the moment was geography with Jura.

She boringly glanced to her right; Gajeel was trying to eat his pencil again.

She moved her head to her left; Laxus poking her shoulder, telling her dirty jokes about their fellow bald teacher.

Oh wait, that was just her imagination again, drugging her with familiar visions.

She rolled her eyes. Only an empty desk sat to her left.

Lucy watched the red–haired girl nervously present her project on the history of rock–encarved armors and weapons. It was obvious to her that she'd overdone it with her presentation with constantly switching out her outfits while stuttering on her digital cake decorated powerpoint.

"And um… Uh, well. T–That's–"

The blood–headed girl was cut off by the swinging of the door.

"Is Lucy Artifeltian here?" a girl with white hair, like Yukino's but longer, with bright blue eyes slammed her fist into the frame of the doorway.

"Uh. It's_ Heartfilia,_" she responded to her by raising her hand and standing from her chair.

"Th–There's been a…" the mysterious, long haired girl paused, her eyes tracing the outline of the floor, "an issue."

Like venom, somebody stabbed her neck with a sharp needle and pressed the button at its tail. Panic forced her skin to wince. Strawberry candy scalded the buds on her tongue.

Don't panic.

Lucy wiggled each of her fingers, making sure this was reality, before heading to where the white haired girl stood, "So where do I go?"

The girl stepped backward into the hallway, allowing Lucy to move in, "I'll escort you to the principal's office."

The blond nodded, trailing behind the lead of the girl who looked strangely familiar. She had seen her before right?

"Oh, my name's Mira. Mirajane Strauss," Mira glanced at her over her shoulder as they started down a case of stairs.

That's why Lucy had thought she'd seen her before. She had. Sting was a big fan of hers and horded her magazines deep in the drawers of his work desk. Mirajane was a model for Sorcerer Weekly. She was famous for her beauty.

Mira vaguely reminded her of Yukino, too.

"Yea, I'm Heartfilia," Lucy spoke, unable to shake off the fact the girl had mispronounced her surname so badly. She watched her feet as stepping on each single stairstep.

"Right, I'm sorry about that," Mira flicked hair off her shoulder, plainly distracted by something, and halfheartedly apologized to Lucy.

Her black mary–janes hit the last step as its blond owner's eyes darted to the principal's office only across the hall.

"Bye," Lucy stomped to the door that held inside all her current fears and worries.

She barely registered Mira's reply, but she was sure she had said, "Good luck, Lucy."

Her imagination simulated the banging of hard candy against her teeth repeatedly. It was like drumming in her insides.

Lucy fiddled with her fingers in front of the big and ominous, black door, nerve–wrackingly. She wasn't nervous at all.

There were a number of things that she could be at fault for that resulted her into being sent to the principal's office during classes. With an escort.

Her teeth pinched her cheeks, red climbing the skin that clothed her ears, as she placed her hand on the doorknob and twisted it.

The pink in his hair was a color she'd always liked before she even consciously knew it. Strawberry.

The principal sat in his signature office chair; a rigid expression frowned on the wrinkles on his old face.

"Hello, _Jude,"_ Lucy smiled through her uneasiness. The curve of her lips refused to show friendliness, but a hostile craze that looked as if she wanted to strangle him on the spot.

_"Miss Heartfilia,"_ hummed a growl deep within the nasty soul of Jude Carmen, otherwise the principal of Carmen Academy inside his little economic dictatorship over the town of Magnolia.

She watched, out of corner of her eye, the pink haired boy's former grin directed to her falter as he stiffened at their poisonous aura.

The suited man's hands were neatly folded. She took a plush chair next to her pink friend in front of the principal's wooden desk, without removing her glare from "him".

Jude's eyes darted over to the pink boy before cleaning his throat, "The two of you are here today because of an… issue reported by one of our fellow students here at Carmen."

Her jaw tightened.

"So?" she listened, for the first time, the boy–next–to–her voice ring. Her head whipped to stare at him, his arms crossed and legs propped on their principal's desk. She tried her best to warn him not to provoke him so directly through her brown eyes.

Pink haired boy's eyebrow only rose.

Jude coughed into his fist, purposely ignoring the comment, and moved on, "You two are conspiring in a gang, correct?"

She nearly choked on the air she'd been massively taking in for the last ten minutes.

The boy beside her only laughed.

"Is that a yes or no?"

The boy opened his mouth, but she kicked him in the leg which Jude wouldn't be able to see and answered on their behalfs, "No, why would we do something so far–fetched as that? I can't risk being arrested by the police when I still am attending school, isn't that the same for our friend here too?"

Lucy slammed her foot into his shin as he squealed a short, "Yes!"

The mustached man nodded, empathizing with her, "Yes, of course. How could I ever doubted you… two."

She wanted to punch him and his sarcasm.

"Very well, you two may resume your classes for today. Just remember to stray from unnecessary activities," Jude stated in his businessman–like voice, but Lucy knew the disgust hidden in his words.

She stood up from her seat and exited the room, the pink haired boy following in suit.

They walked together from the office and entered outside of the school, heading over to the next building from the more time–consuming route. Currently, the school grounds were empty due to the obvious statement that everyone else was in class.

"So…" the pink haired boy started as his eyes scanned hers while they passed through the school's garden, courtesy of the gardening club, "You're Heartfilia, right?"

"Lucy Heartfilia," she returned his eye contact, her heart droning her entire thought process.

They stopped walking, facing each other with blank faces.

"Natsu Dragneel," he outstretched his hand for hers, offering a wordless handshake.

She forced herself to pull up her hand, interlocking it into his. Sparks again. This time she could feel them bounce off his eyes and burn her skin like acid.

Strawberry lollipops.

They both made the motion of moving their hands up and down as if they were only learning how to walk.

Cobalt blue and purple with one white stripe.

They repeated the same gesture again.

Pink haired boys.

They shook a third time but this time freeing their fingers from the other's grasp, afraid that if they stayed like that too long; it may have been bad for their health.

Natsu stared at her, holding the same unreadable expression as she did.

Her fingers guided themselves to her cheek, cupping it while tapping one finger over and over.

She imagined as if she was in a classroom, preferably Laxus', taking a test surrounded by her quiet, focused classmates. The room would be dead silent with the exception of the familiar scratching of lead. She would be staring at the sheet of paper on her desk, tapping her pen on her chin in deep thought. Then, she would halt her thoughts for a moment and read the one question printed with ink on the paper, one she'd read over a million times already.

_Why does Natsu Dragneel act the way he does? Please explain each reason._

Her thoughts were snapped by her pink haired friend, his fingers wrapped explosively but numbly on her wrist; the wrist that connected to the hand on her cheek.

"So, Lucy," he studied her with his dark eyes, wincing at the thought that if he turned away, she would disappear, "Wanna ditch classes with me?"

The way he'd spoken her name made some click deep in the clockworks of her soul. Like she found something she didn't know she lost.

Like the bullet of a gun, strawberry flavored lollipops charred her tongue with some sort of bittersweetness. A beating, that certainly didn't sound from someone like her, rumbled in her ears. She didn't like this feeling. She didn't like the scorching taste it left in her mouth. It almost felt like she was kissing him.

She didn't want to love it.

* * *

**Author's Note: The color of this story's a little tough skinned, but I hope you guys will appreciate it anyways. I'm having fun playing around with all the characters. So whatcha think? Cool? I'll update whenever I can. Reviews and everything are all loved with all my heart!**

**–dragonsdeed a.k.a. who can't freakin' decide on what to update or do on Pokemon Y.**


	2. Feelin' Fine

**Author's Note: I really like how this chapter turned out. It's cute and heartwarming to me so I hope you guys feel the same!**

**Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima has dibs over Fairy Tail, not me.**

* * *

**ACT 2: Feelin' Fine**

"Yes," Lucy pried herself from the sensations in her head that she didn't want to feel. His fingers tightened on her wrist, like fire branding her skin with some sort of stamp.

Natsu's colorless expression tore into a rainbow of all the shades of pink.

"Let's go," he smiled, ripping her hand from her cheek, and dangled with his fingers into hers with the hand that once gripped her wrist.

Her insides exploded, like Natsu had set up millions of little remote–controlled bomb and had pressed the little red button. She stared at their tangled fingers.

"Lucy?" he tugged their fingers toward him, but Lucy refused to step forward from her spot on the grass.

Natsu tried to pull her closer as her shoes dug into the dirt.

"You can't just hold my hand," she aimed her brown eyes at him, denying the feeling in her brain.

"You just can't do that," she repeated, desperation filling her raw throat.

"You're weird. Let's get going," Natsu tilted his head, finally yanking her hard enough so she fell into his arms.

Lucy's cheek pressed at his shirt, "You reek of strawberries."

He pulled away from her, like scurrying from poisonous snakes, but still kept contact with her hand, "You too."

She shrugged as Natsu forcefully dragged her to the school gates, "To freedom."

His eyes glittered as he said this. Something ignited under her skin.

"To freedom," her eyes sparked, something that she was unfamiliar with but felt so right. She felt right with Natsu Dragneel.

Her legs moved quickly while Natsu tugged her along like unwanted baggage, but she knew that wasn't the case because he would occasionally turn back and smile at her.

This was _so_ right.

* * *

Natsu had dragged her to Strawberry Street, a place she hadn't been to since she was little.

He squeezed their fingers, standing in front of a cafe called Marvel's Swing.

He swung their arms playfully before grinning at her, "Like it?"

Lucy's eyes darted at the tiny cafe's features. It looked cramped between the two more dominate buildings cramming it together. A window showcased its insides that held wooden tables and chairs. The wall were painted that kind of blue that was behind the daytime night and cobalt blue. She shook her head. Marvel's Swing just, at first glance, camouflaged with the other cafes around town.

"It's like air," she commented, fixing her eyes to his.

"Cool, let's go in," he pulled her to the cafe's front door as she felt like a puppy on a leash being towed by its owner.

"No wait!" she protested, suddenly realizing they were going into that cafe, and attempted to run away from him, "I never said–"

But it was too late, they had already walked through the currently empty cafe's doors. The boy had thrown her into a chair seated by table to the window. Then, he sat down on a chair adjacent to hers, in his hands a menu that popped out of literally nowhere.

"Do you wanna share a strawberry float?" he fumbled with his paper menu, turning it to face her and pointing at what he wanted.

Lucy placed her chin on her hand, "I don't know, let me see the menu first. I'm hungry, and it's twelve."

"Lunch time?" his pink eyebrow wiggled.

"Lunch time," she agreed with him as he passed her the menu.

"Natsu? Where is your–" Lucy's head turned to a navy haired girl with a notepad and pencil. She was young, like Romeo–young which was between thirteen and fifteen.

"Oh, hey, Wendy," he flashed a grin at the girl, ripping off the last of her words.

"Uh. Am I interrupting your date with your girlfriend?" Wendy cocked her head, eyes burning with that spark Lucy had been seeing very often now.

Before Natsu could reaction, Lucy Heartfilia picked up her menu, "He's paying for my meal, too. I'd like a pasta special with cheese, a vanilla milkshake which are both for here, and barbecue ribs with extra gravy to go."

Even as calm and poised she seemed like on the outside, her heart was pounding, and she just wanted to go into hiding out of embarrassment. She wanted to run away from this entire situation, but something kept her back.

She was trying to figure out that last part out.

The blond listened to the explosions on her insides as she glanced to Natsu. He had all his attention focused on the window to his left.

"Oh, really?" she could feel the tension in Wendy's voice, "Natsu do you want anything?"

"Just so we're clear; she's not my girlfriend."

"O–Okay," Lucy watched the navy headed girl who absently scribbled on her notepad, flushed with nervous cheeks.

Lucy swallowed before speaking to Wendy, "Natsu's gotta get a strawberry float, so don't mind him. Thanks for waitering us."

If she were anywhere else, Lucy would have smiled afterwards. But this was different, her voice was still and steady, not cracking or breaking out of its limited nature. Acting came to her so naturally that she no longer needed to even try.

Wendy bowed, over–exaggerating it, and stiffly ran away into the back of the restaurant. She had probably been intimidated by Natsu.

The moment Wendy has escaped the scene, Natsu's onyx irises, now glinting with an unfamiliar golden gloss, shot over to her temple.

"Why did you say that?"

Lucy returned his glare with the best of what she could pull off of a bored plaster. Though, she wanted to jump up at him from across the table to hug him.

No, Lucy, you can't do that.

She bit her tongue to prevent herself from answering him with, "Well, did you expect me to blush and say, 'N–No! It's not like that!' or something?"

"Payback," Lucy responded to him, observing the sparks in his eyes weren't like the others before. They weren't ambitious, only oiled with hate.

"D–Don't," he stuttered, finally breaking out of character and heating up in pink, "Don't do that again."

Something in her chest twirled as a sudden rise of giddiness jumbled in her.

Lucy's lips curved up, like a fairy had spilled pixie dust on her mouth. She smiled, a certain warmth thrived in her heart.

Natsu's once averted eyes jerked back to her, open with shock.

"You're smiling," he stated, a hand ran into his pink hair, as sparks dazzled in his eyes, "You're smiling."

"Oh,_ man,"_ Natsu covered his mouth with his other hand, a coat of pink shielding his cheeks, "You're smiling. It's just too–"

"Um. Here's your orders?" Wendy appeared at their table and slid their drinks and plates down, her last sentence turning up into a question.

"Thanks," Lucy perked at the sight of her pasta and milkshake arriving.

"If you need anything else, call me," Wendy creaked the sides of her mouth open, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"'Kay."

Wendy nodded her head, viciously, and once again sprinted into the back of the cafe.

Natsu's lips slurped on his float, recovering from his former state and again acted as if nothing had happened, "You don't wanna strawberry milkshake?"

Lucy shrugged, drinking through the straw of her drink, "I've had a lot of strawberries lately. I think it's better to lay off for now."

He grinned through the straw of his float, grabbing her fork for her pasta and stabbing one of her little bowtie noodles. Before she knew it, Natsu was eating off_ her_ plate with_ her_ food and_ her_ fork.

"Hey! Give it back!" she reached over the table and tried to snatch the fork from his fingers.

"Haha!" a laugh slipped from his mouth, enjoying the situation a little too much, "I'll give it back if you let me feed you the rest of the pasta."

She stopped and sat down on her chair, "Deal."

Lucy was going to _explode._ Damn that acting habit of hers! Natsu poked a bowtie pasta with her fork, a smile smoldering on his face widing.

He picked up the fork and leaned over the table, drawing closer and closer to her. The fork was suddenly shoved into her mouth as a loud clattering noise deafened her eardrums.

Natsu's limbs were hovering over_ hers._ His face deathly close to _hers_. Everything that was supposedly called "Natsu" was within one inch radius of _her._

No amount of acting could have ever prepared her for this.

The heat on her cheeks gnawed as she began to reanalyze the situation.

Because Natsu was trying to feed her with his fork and leaned over the table too far, the pink haired boy had fallen over on top of her and made the entire wooden table collapse. Apparently, it was the type that was collapsible for space efficiency.

Natsu's hair hung over his forehead as his hands were stationed to the floor near the sides of her head. He was breathing heavily. In the background, she could recognize the remains of her meal and Natsu's strawberry float splattered on the floor.

"Hey, Natsu?" she shifted her hand to the side of his face. His eyes were bloodshot, and they weren't focusing on anything in the floor.

"Natsu," she repeated his name again, realizing how foreign it rolled off her tongue. It was like someone else had spoken it, and not her. His breathing didn't even bother to halt and faze. His onyx eyes were constricting. He was casting a shadow over her, blocking the brightness of the ceiling lights.

He wasn't like this when the cobalt blue boy kicked him. He wasn't like this when they were in the principal's office. So why now?

Lucy locked her aim on him, her hand sticking to his cheek, "Na–"

"Shut up, Lucy," he growled, finally snapping from his little panic attack and glaring at her as of what an aggressive dog will do to a man with a knife.

Her acting skills finally kicked in as Lucy flicked him with her free hand on the forehead, "You fell on top of _me."_

"Yea, I know," Natsu moved his face, dangerously, to hers.

Strawberry lollipops were currently sneaking their way to her cravings list. Only, it was a lot for her to use the hand on Natsu's hand to shove him away.

"You owe me a strawberry latte."

He looked at her, dumbfounded, as Wendy finally arrived on scene with a bucket and mop in her hand.

"I'm sorry I'm la–" the indigo locked girl started before tripping over her own feet and flopping onto the ground, now lying on her stomach.

Lucy and Natsu, who still were on the ground and stacked on top of each other, silently gawked at Wendy, whose face was smacked with crimson red.

"Uh," Natsu paused, glancing at Lucy, before in his politest of voices asking Wendy, "Are you okay?"

The young girl simply huffed in response, not even attempting to pick herself off the cafe's gray tiled bottom, "We're having a floor party, guys."

The laughs in the room from the lone three people could have rivaled and overpowered the warcry of a thousand men crashing into battle with only swords and horses.

* * *

"Uh, Lucy," Natsu quickly eyed his watch before returning his stare to her, "Do you think… there's a possibly we could do this again?"

She turned her shoes to face him. It had been an hour or so since they'd been at Marvel's Swing, and currently they were leaving the movie theater. The entire reason why they had seen the movie was because _Lucille Ashley_ was starring as the main character. Plus, Bickslow had this entire inside joke about her being secretly Lucille 'cause they looked alike. No, she was serious. Almost ten people asked for her autograph at the theaters, thinking she was the all–star. With all that attention, some days, it was pretty annoying to be the adorable Lucy Heartfilia.

No, she wasn't narcissist.

Lucy tucked hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling anxious. Wait, she was feelin' fine. She had said so herself, right?

"Maybe."

His eyebrows scrunched up, and his onyx eyes drenched in disappointment, "Does it mean yes?"

"Nope."

"Are you downgrading me?" Natsu took a step forward to her, a frown fighting his lips. Strawberry pink lips.

"No."

"Luce! Are you even listening to me?" his head was shifting to the side in interrogation, "Lucy!"

"Never."

Natsu pressed his fingers against her cheeks, warmly shading them into another color, "Say yes."

Lucy blinked, noticing the slight, very slight, pink dashed on his face. Absently, she moved her hand to touch his cheek. Warmth. _Heat._ She was feelin' fine.

"Yes," she whispered, combing the hand that was on Natsu's cheek through his pink hair. She didn't know what she was doing. Her body was like on autopilot and craving for the taste of strawberry lollipops. Lucy wasn't acting but like more moving on instinct.

She needed to snap out of it.

Throwing a step back from the strange boy, she stared at the ground, finding it more entertaining than the situation at hand.

"Lucy?"

"Natsu," sweet, sweet haven stung the tips of her tongue as a thought popped into her head, "When we fell over at Wendy's, why were you panicking?"

"Forget it. I just thought of something stupid," his voice bit into her skin. She yanked up her head to get a glimpse of Natsu. He wasn't looking at her, the winter air was making his breath transform into smoke. Actually, it was quite cold, and she wasn't wearing a jacket. She tilted her chin, nor was he.

For some reason, she saw something wrong in his appearance. Almost like… something was _missing._

Though, she wasn't sure what.

Lucy mentally slapped herself, forcing her brain to focus, "Tell me then."

She knew she wasn't the type to pry since that would mean she would have to give a secret in exchange, but she thought maybe this was worth it. Lucy bit her lip, why did she think it worth it?

Like she knew.

"Then, tell me one thing about yourself," he retaliated, scratch the back of his ear.

"I hate my mother. Now what about you, Natsu?" she strained to say rather sarcastically but the information she'd handed him was true. Layla Heartfilia, somebody she absolutely despised.

She had left her.

Natsu's eyes whipped forward to hit the target between her irises, "Why."

It wasn't a question, but a demand. Her acting was starting to kick in again.

"Because she was a slut," she numbly spoke, somehow staying calm and somehow speaking the truth. She wanted to stop tearing secrets from her entire list. She really wasn't trying to hide them, but it seemed so much better to hide them.

Footsteps approached her as she stiffened. Natsu was now one inch away from her face for the second time today.

"My daddy left me because I had always failed him," he hissed in a soft tone, his hand racing up the side of her neck, "He _hated_ me."

Lucy pressed the skin of her thigh with her hand. She was numb. She was unable to feel a thing and only act upon commands from a computer. She didn't feeling a thing.

"I feel like I live in hell everyday because of him," white clouds brushed her skin as he whispered into her ear, "I promised myself I would hate him back, but I just can't."

She took a step into the crook of his neck and laid her cheek on his shirt, twisted her head to the left so she wasn't gawking at his face, "I can't stop hating my mother."

Natsu placed his other hand on the top of her head, toying with her blond strands of hair, "My dad's _dead,_ Lucy."

She pulled from his shirt, turning her head to stare at him with her chocolate irises, "And my mother _is_ dead."

* * *

Lucy sat upside down on her couch, nervously holding the TV remote in her hands.

It had been_ two_ days since she'd ditched school with Natsu Dragneel, and she hasn't seen him since.

After their little chat, they headed back to the school in malignant silence and traded their goodbyes, parting their different ways. Sting had nagged her about where she was since they had their last class together, saying she was missing. Lucy shrugged and replied with that the principal requested her at his office, which was true. But that had been Thursday, and currently it was Saturday, or the weekend. She had nothing to do.

She flipped through channels, tensely shifting her legs that were rubbing against the wall.

"Lucy?" her vision shot to her sleepy brother, rubbing his eyes and leaning on the door frame which lead upstairs, "What the hell are you doing awake at this hour?"

"Sting, it's only ten in the morning," she jabbed her thumb on the down button, moving onto another uninteresting channel about the differences between monkeys and chickens.

"It's too early!" he waved his arms in the air as slumping next to her on the couch, lazily complaining.

"Normal people would be awake at this hour."

"Shut up! They're just freaks! I'm flippin' fabulous!" Sting hollered, his eyes half–opened and his words slightly slurred.

Lucy rolled her eyes, "Sting, you're still asleep. Go back to bed."

"Says the one wide–awake at freaking ten in the morning," he slammed his elbow, dramatically, into her ribs.

She squealed.

"Sting!" the blond girl shouted in objection as hitting him on the head with the remote.

"Lucy! Lucy! I'm awake now, gee," he shielded himself with his arms and surrendered, his eyes fully opened now.

"Morning, Stingy," she murmured, fixing her posture from sitting upside–down to right–side up.

"Lucy, you've been acting strange lately," he puffed his cheeks out, a habit he'd developed over the years.

"What do you mean?" her heartbeat reared up in speed. Pink haired boys.

The blond boy pulled his hand out, the palm facing the ceiling in his preppy boy manner, "You've been doing some weird things, and you've just not been my little sis, Lucy."

"I'm feelin' fine," she rubbed the back of her neck, a slight flush denting her skin.

"Liar," he stuck his tongue out, "You can't hide anything from me."

"I know," Lucy brought her knees to her chest, "But, let's pretend I can."

"Okay," his eyebrow questioningly rose.

"I like the taste of strawberry lollipops a lot," a certain warmth jumped through her veins, something she didn't understand but started to simply accept.

Instead of laughing at her, Sting's mouth rolled into a wide smile, pink dotting the skin below his dark eyes, "I know exactly how you feel."

* * *

She groaned, her casual outfit along with a jacket on her skin. It was slowly becoming colder and colder. Gajeel had requested her services at his carshop and literally begged her to come over. Thinking that since she had nothing to do and she supposedly would see Gajeel suffer, Lucy had saw it as a win–win.

Yeah, nevermind. It was way too cold to be outside without heating.

Her boots cut to the corner where Gajeel's place was. It was a normal looking carshop with random car pieces scattered in the garage. A big sign was sticking out of the ground with the words "Metalicana Iron–Rip Smithery" painted in white.

She entered the open garage area, pulling a hand near her mouth and yelling, "Gajeel! I'm here!"

"Lucy! Shush!" a rough voice echoed from behind her.

She twirled her heels and paced to where Gajeel cowered in a dark corner of the garage, "What are you doing?"

"Sh!" a crazed terror soaked his eyeballs as he banged a finger against his mouth, "She's here! The devil! You've got to help me, Lucy! You're the only one I can turn to!"

"Oh?" she became suddenly interested in the situation again, "And how much is this going to cost you?"

Gajeel and she had this thing going on where they asked each other favors in exchange for the other's services or money. This little joke between them had been going on since they first met which was because Gajeel was being paid to _roughen up_ Lucy Heartfilia. Well, Gajeel did beat her up, forcing her to go to the hospital for three weeks, but that had been in the past.

The black–haired boy groaned, even in one of his most darkest moments, "I'll clean yours and Sting's yellow buggy, and treat you to lunch for the next _two_ weeks."

"Deal!" she grinned, her thumbs pointed up in approval.

Gajeel crossed his arms, temporarily forgetting his fear, "I flippin' swear."

"Gajeel! I'm here!" a feminine, but quite commanding voice chimed from the back of the garage.

"You gotta help me, Lucy," Gajeel squeaked, quietly, his fingers folding and knees bending on the ground, "Please! Please!"

"Gajeel, I get it. What do you want me to do?" the blonde frowned, his fingers digging deeper into the pockets of her jacket.

"Distract her. Then get her outta my shop before she goes godzilla on the place, again," he shivered, muscle arms wrapping themselves around his temple.

"Sure," she shrugged, beginning to stroll to where the voice echoed from.

"Be careful, Lucy! She's an animal!" Gajeel whispered loudly, glancing from left to right, cautiously.

Lucy jerked her head back at him one last time, "I've seen worse."

* * *

Now she wasn't content with the situation at hand. Currently, there was a brunette staring at her, quite intensely, at a local bar which she was, very, underaged for.

She couldn't go to jail for something so_ petty_ as this!

"You look...familar," she listened the brunette slur, clearly overdose with the alochol in her fist, "Like in some kind of, hic, action flick I've seen?"

"Infinity Clock? It has Lucille Ashley in it," Lucy's acting skills spoke up for her, as she turned her gaze from the drunk girl across the table from her. Two days ago, she and Natsu went over to the theaters to watch Miss Lucille and her cousin, Michelle, beat up a bunch of bad guys for her late father's clockhand. Eight point eight out of ten stars, in her opinion.

"Oh, yea!" the brunette howled, her glass of beer swinging up in the air, "You're Lucille Ashie, right?"

"No," Lucy frowned, the beer in her hand currently being dumped under the table. She couldn't risk being anymore out of control of her own body.

"Then who are you?" the brown curled girl's shoulders bounced left and right.

She paused at the brunette's question. Who was she? Lucy was a lot of things. She was Sting Eucliffe's little sister, a friend of Gajeel and Juvia, Laxus and his gang's messager dog, a student of Carmen Academy, the daughter of the dirty Layla Heartfilia, the blond who laughed to herself in the front of the classroom, and the stranger who saves pinked hair boys with a strawberry lollipop hanging from the side of her mouth.

She couldn't be_ Lucy Heartfilia._

Seeing the tattoo on the brunette's stomach, the answer Lucy was going to speak changed and blossomed.

The blond haired girl's mouth opened and mumbled words slowly to the brunette, whose eyes widened then shrieked in merry joy. The brunette wrapped her arms around the blond and laughed as the blond started to join her giggle fest. Soon, Lucy found herself surrounded by somebody who knew and understood what she, Lucy Heartfilia is and was, by definition.

* * *

Lucy whistled home happily. Gajeel was a wimp. Handling his "problem" was as easy as strawberry pie.

Guess who's getting their yellow buggy washed and free lunch for the next two weeks?

She sparked with a smile, content with the events of today. It was evening, and the streetlights were beginning to lit up like stars. She stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk and glanced up. She_ loved_ stars. Constellations. They were the prettiest thing on earth to her.

In the darkening sky, she could see one tiny speck brighten the entire world. The plastic bag in her grip tightened. A single, yellow star danced alone above. Almost like her.

She was alone. But, it wasn't like she enjoyed it. Yet, she didn't dislike it either. It was simply frosty when she needed warmth.

As her head propped up to observe the starry sky, arms wrapped themselves around her throat. Her heart jumped. The arms closed tighter to her neck, heat racing through her once ice frozen body. These arms were warm, like a scarf comforting her loneliness. Steady breathing brushed her ears. She let time freeze as she listened to the hushed, soft noise of inhaling and exhaling.

Lucy turned her head to see who the toasty arms belonged to.

Pink and dazzling, beautiful hair. Her cheeks tripped to a color of crimson. His midnight eyes focused on her, still wayward in its forms of personality.

"Natsu," she breathed, clearly seeing the coldness of the air pecking his nose and cheeks.

"Hi, Lucy," he muttered, glancing to her right as she noticed a new article of clothing on him. A scarf.

"Hello," she hushfully greeted him back, his jacketless arms still clinging to her neck.

Natsu's eyes sparked, like a _million_ stars switching on in a dull, obsidian sky. She felt like the sun was forcing the world into global warming because that's what her entire soul crumbled with.

He smiled to her, bashfulness gracing his cheeks, "Can you hear me?"

"I can," she watched his eyes explode into little balls of fire.

Natsu shifted his head to her ear, humming to her with secrecy, "I think the stars are the prettiest thing in the world."

Her fingers touched the fabric of his newfound, scaly muffler, "No, I think scarves are the prettiest thing in the entire universe."

* * *

**Author's Note: I flippin' love this chapter. This chapter is loosenly based off of Lana Del Rey's "Without You" mainly because I listened to the song while typing this chapter. I love Lana Del Rey, and that song. Yes! I love this.**

**I'll update whenever, and reviews make me happy to know what you think of this chapter!**


	3. Scarf

**Author's Note: I accidentally got a bit sweeter in this chapter. Blame my dogs.**

* * *

**ACT 3: Scarf**

Her heartbeat danced, constantly twirling and leaping out of her chest.

The warmth around her neck suddenly vanished as her chocolate eyes darted to the pink haired boy with his lovely scarf.

"I have to go somewhere," his voice murmured to her, almost too soft to be heard.

"Goodbye," she watched as something died in the eyes of the boy standing in front of her.

"Goodbye, Lucy."

Her fingers cautiously left his scarf. Even as much to her displeasure, if she stayed there she was sure she'd die of a heart attack.

She froze, stiffly staring at the boy's retreating body. It looked forced, his brain pulling his limbs to take one step after another. He didn't want to leave either.

At that moment, Lucy, indeed, felt the strawberry sting tear at her tongue. She wanted to yell for him to return. She wanted to feel the thrill of speaking his name again. She wanted to race up to him and hug his back like they do in those cheesy romantic movies. Only, she didn't.

Lucy stayed put in her little spot on the sidewalk, the night sky glooming over her shoulders. She stared at the boy tangled in the prettiest scarf ever created twist his back toward her and walk away. Behind her, a streetlight, that once was dull, flicked to light up and brighten the area to her back. The figure of the pink haired boy vanished in the shadow of a corner as she pressed her toes into the insides of her boots.

She was by herself, alone, again.

She swallowed, roughly, unable to digest the information correctly.

She was alone.

Her lips pushed together as her neck felt exposed and cold. She needed warmth. A hand tousled her blond hair and ruffled it. She had to get herself together and go home, or Sting would start to go crazy.

As she began to turn her heels in the direction of her apartment, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jacket. Pushing the plastic bag in her hand to her elbow, she pulled out her touch screen, good for nothing, phone and glanced at the lit up screen.

_One text message from Levy McGarden._

Now she and Levy were kinda of like pen pals, but using text messages instead of letters. Levy lived in Hargeon, a town halfway across the country from Magnolia, and one day, Lucy had accidentally texted the wrong number, which was meant to go to Sting, to get his butt to the bookstore to buy her the just released, godly book, _Insurgent._

Since she had accidentally texted the wrong number, Levy had received the text, thinking it was from her sister, and told her to shut the fuck up because she wasn't going to get the book for her 'cause she wanted to read it, first. Lucy, finally noticing she'd texted the wrong number, quickly apologized saying the text was meant for her brother, and she was currently read the book and loved it. With that statement, Levy went bananas and spammed to Lucy how she was sorry, and she was absolutely in _love_ with the book herself. This started the beginning of a vital and the most insane friendship between Lucy and Levy.

And one thing was for certain; she and Levy had never met in person before.

The blond girl opened the message Levy had sent her.

_**Levy:** Okay, what should I do? Jet just asked me out, and he's serious this time! Ughh! I don't know anymoOOORRREEE!_

Tapping at the screen of her phone, she speedily typed a half–decent reply for her friend and slammed the send button within three seconds time.

_**Lucy:** Do you actually like LIKE him? Or do you like Droy more? PICK FAVORITES, LEVY!_

She sighed, her shoulders slumping, and she started to walk home in the depths of the night. A familiar ring jingled in her hand. She checked her phone, her eyes reading the message over and over.

_**Levy:** But I don't LIKE LIKE HIM AT ALL! There's this other guy… AND IT'S NOT DROY FOR YOUR INFORMATION, LU!_

_**Lucy:** What other guy?_

The blonde stared at her phone, absorbed in the situation, as her feet stepped softly on the concrete. There's another guy? Whoa, that was something she didn't expect. All Levy talked about was books, her sister, and how annoying Jet and Droy were. Lucy had thought she thought Jet and Droy were annoying out of love, but who was the other guy?

A buzz sliced her thoughts perfectly through the middle.

_**Levy:** Well, uh, over the summer I met this guy, and he was like really punk with studs and just everything. And, no, we didn't date. I just thought he was weird, and now I JUST CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM!_

_**Lucy:** It's love, Levy._

She giggled, a certain sweet strawberry bittering her lips. Isn't love just the stupidest thing?

_**Levy:** LU! NO! NO, IT ISN'T! HE WAS WEIRD! HE CALLED ME SHRIMP AND EVERYTHING! UGH, HE WAS SO WEIRD, TOO! NO, LU!_

Her legs lifted up a flight of stairs, the sound of metal clanging her heels. Cobalt blue and purple with one white striped hairs. An idea shot in her head, but she only pushed it aside, throwing it into the back.

She sent her response as her phone immediately vibrated back.

_**Lucy:** Is he hot? If he is then he's for you, Levy!_

_**Levy:** Uh, if you think eyebrow studs are attractive then yea._

Gajeel? She shook her head in denial as her feet reached the top of the stairs. No way.

_**Lucy:** YOU ARE IN LOVE. Now what are you going to do with Jet? Break his heart, Levy, be a heartbreaker._

_**Levy:** No. And no._

_**Lucy:** Do it._

_**Levy:** No._

_**Lucy:** ;)_

_**Levy:** …_

_**Lucy:** ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)) ;D_

_**Levy:** Fine._

_**Lucy:** Sweet! Go break it to him now since you are in love with your summer punk boy!_

_**Levy:** I'M GOING NOW, LU! AND I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH STUD BOY!_

Lucy snickered, feeling quite victorious since she had her magical way of dealing with her buddy, Levy. Although the strawberry lollipops kept nudging her mouth, she was able to restrain her desire to search for the only pink haired boy in town. Even though she had won the discussion, Lucy felt like she needed to rub it in Levy's face.

_**Lucy:** So in love. ;)_

_**Levy:** AM NOT! BYE, LU._

Her laughter smoked out of her lungs for the next two minutes, slipping her phone back into her jacket.

"Uh. Sis?" she saw her brother peer out from their apartment's front door with the most confused and creeped out expression on his face.

"Hey, Stingy," she grinned at him, slowly remembering what Natsu had done to her a while ago. With Levy and unconsciously walking back to her home in the dark, the memory was temporarily rubbed out of her thoughts. Too bad it didn't last longer.

Her smile instantly turned upside down.

"Sis?" the blond–haired mess of a boy stared at her, cowering behind the door, "We need to talk."

Lucy nodded, stepping into the apartment and dropping the plastic bag in her hand on the kitchen table. Her mind currently was only occupied by Natsu Dragneel and his cotton scarf.

"What is it?" she robotically spoke, her mind and her body not in sync.

"Lucy!" Sting raised his voice, noticing right away how she wasn't paying any attention, "Snap outta it, and sit here on the couch with me!"

The blond girl widened her eyes, surprised by her brother's mysterious behavior, and rushed over to the couch tumbling into it. She fixed her position and sat quietly beside her brother, aimlessly eyeing him to speak.

"So, uh," she observed his face flutter to a pink as he mumbled, "There's this girl."

"Double in a row," Lucy whispered, the blankest of faces wiping her expression.

"What?" Sting's eyebrow darted up while his eyes set on her in complete question.

She leaned back on their black leather couch, "Levy's got a boy. You've got a girl."

"Your text buddy?" Sting's fingers propped up face up, "Wow, she's a looker too for those guys who wanna a cutie who looks lovely in red glasses. And, Lucy, I don't have a girl. Yet."

"Yet," the girl stared at him, the air in the room frosting with ice.

"She's somebody, beautiful," he began in breathing becoming louder by the second, "Her eyes, her hair, her voice. I love it all."

Lucy waited for her brother to go on.

"She's the light of my world. She's the prettiest person on earth."

Her heartbeat roared in her chest. Natsu. His scarf. His arms. His warmth. He was the fire that kept her from freezing in this glacier of a world.

At that moment, no words were exchanged between the two siblings. Only their fast heartbeats and their thoughts jumbling with unorthodox feelings. Ones they may or may have not experienced before. At that moment, they both understood something. Something wild and free. Something new and hopefully never to be worn. Something they would trust with all their might.

"Hey, Sting," Lucy's hands covered her eyes, the words falling faster from her lips, "When you go crazy for somebody, are they really worth it?"

His eyes laid on her, the sparks of fire electrifying his words, "They'll be worth everything you had and ever will have."

* * *

That night, Lucy couldn't sleep. She didn't want to.

She shifted in her bed, the blankets wisping away with her temple. She knew Sting couldn't and wouldn't sleep either. They had the same genes and mostly thought alike even if Sting was a year older.

The digital clock to her left on her nightstand's red glow read exactly twelve P.M.

She moved her body to the right, her eyes open all the way.

One word sang in her head. Her mind was spinning and trampling over her focus. Her heart was like a stallion, and it was starting to break for one good thing or another.

Her pillow felt awfully softer tonight.

She pulled out her phone from her nightstand, her fingers absently dapping over the screen before actually bringing it toward her. With the little electronic in her hand, she pressed a button as it brightened the entire room. She went to the little person icon and scrolled through the different name until she found the one she was searching for.

Touching the call button, her ear felt the cold touch of her phone. Soft buzzing drummed to her ears before she hear a certain pick–up noise, his icy voice bit into her skin.

"Lucy?"

Her voice trembled, so hoarse from lack of use, "Hi, Gray."

He yawned through the phone, apparent that he was asleep a minute ago, "What is it?"

"I just needed to talk to someone," the freezing touch of her phone making her shiver.

Gray groaned as rustling came from his side of the call, "It's twelve, Lucy, and I'm sleeping. Sting's at home, right? Talk to him or something, but anyways, what did you wanna to talk about?"

The blond pondered for a second, her head sinking deeper into her pillow, "Nevermind, just talk to me until I fall asleep."

"Okay," she heard his voice soften, his voice becoming snow light enough for her to see, "This morning, Ultear accidently switched the power off in our house so we spent like the first fifteen minutes screaming 'cause we didn't have any internet. Then Meredy told us to stop screaming like little junior high girls and man up our dicks."

Gray laughed hushly, probably because Lyon and him share a bunk bed, "It's kinda funny how we rely on the internet to talk to our dad, and how often we do it, at the same time."

"He's such a goof. Getting tons of jobs from the force. I wish I could do that when I'm older," his tone lowers, a secret hiss of disgust seething through his teeth even she could picture from the phone.

The last thing she remembered was her replying in a tiny, cinnamon sweet voice, "I'm the same, Gray."

* * *

The bags under her eyes were purple–ish. She rolled her eyes, not caring for them and turning away from the mirror.

"Lucy! Pancakes!" The screams of Sting Eucliffe called for her presence downstairs and not in her room's personal bathroom.

Too exhausted to speak up, Lucy stomped the floor obnoxiously in response. A girlish squeak passed her ears while she laughed for a split second. Sting was a scaredy cat, more than his cat, Lector.

She pulled her hair into its signature do as she rushed out of her room, down a case of stairs, and into the semi–kitchen–and–living room.

"Hi, Stingy," she stuck out her tongue, sitting down next to her brother on the couch where a plate of pancakes awaited her.

"Lucy," he mumbled through his savaging of eating his pancakes, his plate below his chin as his fork scooped up food for his already full mouth.

His red cat, Lector, sat on the other side of him on top of the couch's arm and was chewing a rubber mouse whose squeaker was broken. She picked up the hot plate of food lying down on the coffee table in front of them, the TV flickering with pictures as a man in a business suit talked on and on about something.

Her fork placed a syrup coated pancake into her mouth as she spoke in between chews, "You watching the news?"

"Shut up, don't talk with your mouth full," he corrected her as wolfing his meal, "Yeah, I'm watching a little guy in a suit gossip about other people's business. Your point?"

"Mean hypocrite," she ate her food, kicking him in the shin with her socked foot, "Did you sleep last night?"

"My hair, can't you tell by my hair?" his droopy eyes hovered up, struggling to see his completely messed up blond, bed hair. It wasn't even the good type of bed hair. It stuck up in wild, strange places and looked like he'd rolled into a dumpster then let a blind man trim his blond strands. It was _that_ bad.

Lucy shrugged, putting more of Sting's morning cooking on her tongue, "My hair looks fine."

Sting's eyes danced in a round circle, "Bags under your eyeballs."

"You have them too," she let her fork dangle from her mouth, noting the purple starting from the corners of his eyes nearest his nose to its other corner partner.

"They'll be gone before eleven." It was ten in the morning right now.

"A.M. or P.M."

"A.M." her brother nodded, his eyes focusing back on his sugary plate of bread.

Lucy licked her lips, finishing off the last of her breakfast, "You're such a–"

"Recently, gangs around the little town of Magnolia have been very active. From drug dealing to gangs fighting, it's best to stay inside when it gets dark. We encourage citizens to report–"

"Are they serious?" Sting's eyes glued to the little square box with the short man in a thin mustache speak, the knit in his eyebrows increasing by the moment.

"Yes," her head balanced on her shoulder, her ears blocking out the noises that did not belong to her only older brother, "We should be more cautious."

The spark of curiosity and adventure triggered a bomb inside his eyes as Sting jerked his head to malice his two black pupils at her, "It's always best to stay out of danger's sight when you're so close."

* * *

She drew a circle around herself with a stick on the dirt ground. After sitting down against some tree's base, she opened the book in her hand as her eyes skimming over the wall of text on its pages. She had stayed at home with the company of her brother and his cat until one o'clock. Now she was taking in her daily reading hours at Crocus Park, one place everyone knew and loved.

Yet, she found herself saying she didn't love it there.

She wasn't sure how long she had sat there and read her precious book that Levy had sent over by mail, but the warm pressure of someone else blessed her right arm's skin. She forgot to bring a jacket, her bare arms brushing the light breezes of fall air clawing shivers from her throat.

A head balanced on her shoulder, playfully. Fingers tangled themselves around her waist. They felt dead. So dead.

"I like your book, Lucy," she listened to his voice hum to her. It sounded so fake. What was real to her, nowadays? She didn't want to feel the artificial responses come from his or her lungs anymore.

She flipped the page, her hand secretly sneaking up the side of his neck, a raw neck without a scarf, "Cold."

Robotically.

"Huh?" she didn't free her eyes from her book as his head was yanked from her shoulder but carefully returned, "Are you cold?"

It didn't sound like him. It sounded as if from a machine, programmed to recite phrases that appeared human yet not. It lacked warmth and the smallest iota of hearth.

"You're cold," she muttered, again flipping a page of her blue–covered book. Hate. She hated how he was acting as of now and at that very second. He was like a frozen tundra when he used to be a volcano spewing with fire and sparks.

Natsu pressed his ear against hers, "I'll steal heat from your body."

Retreat, run away, Lucy. Code Red.

"No," she pricked him with her stare, pushing him away from her. She was feeling something different from him. She couldn't taste those sweet, sweet strawberries anymore.

"Why, Lucy?" he pouted, his eyes not reflecting his childish sadness. This wasn't right.

"Bye," she spit through her teeth, standing up from her spot and ditching him by himself in the horde of dead, lifeless leaves.

This wasn't Natsu. He didn't act like this. It was cold, and autumn was beginning to transform into a frosty winter. Leaves sprinted into its containment of warm colors and dropped from its branches to bust into a brown. This wasn't who she knew. This wasn't her strawberry paradise. Natsu wasn't suppose to be cold; he was supposed to be warm.

And he wasn't wearing his one and only beautiful scarf now.

As she walked from the pitiful sight of a desperate Natsu Dragneel, her boots sped faster and faster into a sprint, her hands balling into fists while theories tracked through her mind. Ambition began bursting into her blood. She was like her father; full of hatred and wanted the sovereign right to murder somebody with the sharpness of her brown eyes. The eyes pouring with a certain thrill of vigor to gain revenge. Revenge for somebody with her favorite shade of pink dyed into his hair.

* * *

Typing in her password, she entered Carmen Academy's student profiles page. Lucy was in her room where her computer was set up. The lights were off, and Sting presumed that she was asleep and not sneaking around on her computer in the dark. Suspiciously, might she had.

After minutes of browsing the students attending Carmen's list page, she'd found two individuals that fit her description almost perfectly. Her to–be victims of revenge.

Cobalt blue and purple with one white striped hair.

She sucked in a deep breath, it had been a while since she plotted something so downright dirty. Shutting off her computer's monitor, she dragged herself off of the chair she had sat on and proceeded to dump herself into the comfort of her bed. She needed to rest, and she had school tomorrow.

Tomorrow would be the day when her strategy would operate and function towards its goal.

The darkness of the room began to lessen the heavy weight over her head. She nuzzled her blankets, her hair draping over her shoulders as her eyes blinked. She wanted to drop into sleep, traveling far from where she was now and crown herself with dreams. Dreams of the good times when Weisslogia was still breathing.

The good old times where she cried until she laughed.

* * *

Lucy sat in the car quietly as the radio blared, forcing her to not speak to Sting whose hair was still a horrible wreck. The irritated expression scowling on his face as her brother drove their yellow buggy's wheel proved to her that she might be in a car accident today.

She shrugged.

"Stupid, stupid!" she listened to Sting scold himself as a hand off the wheel banged his head, distressfully, "Now she's gotta think you're stupid!"

"Don't worry, Sting," Lucy's eyes darted out the window where an oddly colored cat chased a white shih–tzu across somebody's front lawn, "Yukino will forgive you."

Something felt so wrong the way she had worded that.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Sting's gaze shot to his little sister, the gloss of distortion wavering his dark eyes, "I'm talking about Minerva here."

Immediately after he said that, his face rose five million degrees higher, and his attention jerked back to the road. Crimson stained his cheeks as he stiffened like a statue. His two hands turned the car's wheel, obediently.

"Who's Minerva, Sting?"

The rest of the car trip to their school was unconsciously mute, Sting driving while refusing to answer Lucy's chaotic questions. Her fingers collapsed around her knees as her brother turned the wheel to park into their usual parking spot at their school.

Her brother was in love with a stranger who she didn't know.

"Sting!" her abnormally amplified voice sliced a knife into her brother's heart, "Who the _fuck_ is Minerva!"

* * *

Her fingers ran through her hair, then pulled out the side ponytail it had been tied to.

"Shit, shit," her voice panicked, her teeth clasping together and gritting, "This is _so_ wrong."

The knit in her eyebrows and the ocean of worry in her eyes spoke her grieve and stress. First of all, she'd told Yukino the wrong answer and now Sting's into some random girl Lucy didn't know!

Second of all, she couldn't get out of her first class, French, because Sherry Blendy was the teacher and absolutely despised Lucy! And they were having tests that day on some French book they had read with some descriptive porn in it. Lovely.

Currently, she was in the girl's bathroom and seated on a toilet with its lid closed. Classes were starting soon, and she had yet to think of a counter plan for the sudden obstacles in her way.

She continued to attempt to rip herself bald until a voice echoed into the bathroom.

"Hey, hey, have you heard the news? Apparently, there are gangs pretty active around these parts!"

She pulled up her legs from the floor and brought them to her knees, carefully listening to the female voice outside of her stall.

"Yes, I know. Just be careful at night, okay?"

Voice number two. Feminine. Strong and stern, yet empathic. Like a commander of an army made of stone.

"Don't worry! I'll be fine, but what how about you–"

Lucy covered her ears, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment before releasing them.

"I wish I could be like you, but Simon says to stray away."

"He's right, you should just mind your own business."

"But, still! Hey, you're dating him right? You're dating my brother, right, right?"

"Sh–Shut up! So what, he's generous and thoughtful and–"

_Ding!_

Unable to handle the two girls bickering, Lucy had grabbed a roll of toilet paper conveniently lying on the floor and threw it into the next stall from underneath. The roll had loudly chimed on the stall next door's wall and tumbled pass Lucy's stall, rolling down each stall until it stopped.

"What was that?"

"We should get out of here."

Footsteps pattered down the stalls and ringing out the door, the noise of a door shutting blessed her ears as she stood up and exited the stall she'd been hiding in.

Lucy stared at herself in the mirror. Her blond hair hung boringly from the roots of her head. She thought about returning it to its original style she had in this morning but then suddenly thought better of it and left her hair be. Straight and causal. No hair ties pinning her hair back from her face.

The ribbon in her hand slipped onto her wrist with ease.

Thinking of what the two girls had said, a strategy started to storm into her head. Ropes and knots. A snare. Now, she had to just set it up and wait for two peculiar individuals.

Lucy began to walk from her reflection only to flinch and return to staring at her face through the mirror. Blond, sunshine hair, tamed and in tip–top shape draping over her shoulders. Chocolate brown eyes, the daze of surprise and toxic explosives smearing their insides. Her lips, formerly in a sort of frown and pout, tightened into a blank, straight line. She let her teeth sink into her cheek. This was the pretty face of both a prodigal genius and a suicidal criminal.

This was Lucy Heartfilia.

* * *

"I'm crazy," she mumbled to herself, sarcastically. A number of miscellaneous items in a brown paper bag swung on her arm, occasionally pushing against her thigh softly.

Turned out, she would be skipping class for the second time in her entire lifetime. The _second_ time.

Her breathing straggled into a sigh. She was heading to the music building, the old one, where rumors of a creepy old cat have erupted to the point where the place became a ghost town. Yet, her investigations confirmed of some interesting information about recent activities droning around the building.

This was Location #1.

Her eyes peered on the building, auburn bricked. A door stood at a flight of two little stairsteps. Yellow tape and chains hugged to the door's front, the knob secured by a lock and two more locks. She walked past the guarded door.

A window, matching her height up to her chin, positioned itself next to the door. Lucy noticed a some kind of iron plate on top of the window sill yet under the openable glass that slid up and down. She pushed her shoe against the brick wall of the building and clawed her fingers onto the window sill.

Then, she pulled her body weight up.

Through the few seconds she until her muscles gave out on her, the blond ripped the iron plate with one hand upward. The iron slid up easily, like a world champion figure skater, and the window's mouth opened up by that one movement. A smile plastered her once bored expression. She pumped her shoes up, changing enough strength for the final blow, as she jumped through the window with all she could, her fingers raking the edges of the window sill.

With a noisily thump, her head laid upside down on the floor, her back curled up to the wall, and the most mystified yet accomplished gape crossed her face.

All she could say was, "My skirt's flipped."

A moment later she picked herself up onto two feet and glanced at the somehow, uninjured brown bag at her arm while, judging by its weight, not a single item had fallen out of its hold. She stuck out her tongue.

Her shoes tapped out of the room she'd broken in by into a hallway, empty of people and furniture. She stopped herself and stared back into the room she'd fallen into. Tan browned hardwood floors and cream painted walls crafted the insides of the building.

She continued walking.

The building was four stories high, and she was positioned at the first floor. Exploring this place would take sometime.

She thrusted her watch into sight. _8:13 A.M._ Classes started at 8:30.

She didn't have enough time to make it through all the floors if she didn't sprint down each hallway and busily splatter her head back and forth, catching small glimpses of each of the room's lining up to the center of the hall. Plus, some of the rooms she had to shove the door out–of–the–way to get a wisp of what it boxed.

Air smoked out of her lungs.

She was definitely getting a workout from this.

* * *

The stairs were a lot harder to climb when you run around five different hallways about the length of thirty football fields, while occasionally kicking doors out of your way. Bad thing was, she had only cleared the first floor so far.

And it was 8:26.

Lucy wheezed as her numb legs jogged her up to the second floor from a flight of nasty stairs. The brown bag on her arm jittered to her leg as she raced down her maze of uncleared hallways. Throwing her head left to right, each room she'd seen as far looked the same.

Desks stacked on top of each other like Tetris. Chairs trying to top each other to see who can pile the tallest mountain of plastic seats. Music stands huddled into a corner like a package of little penguins in the harsh tundras. A gigantic dry erase board pinned on the wall, smeared with the stains of old marker that just didn't manage to disappear. Each room sunk with the same melody; dull, boring, and old with memories.

She kept pulling up her tired legs and searched the current hallway quite lightly. Her body turned left at an intersection of hallways as she reached upon a dead–end. Her pace softened to a stroll.

Three rooms adjacent to each other and a closed door at the end of the hallway. She walked straight to the end door, darting her eyes at the doorways at the sides. Her feet squeaked at the end door as her fingers pressed to the door's jack frosted knob.

She twisted it and swung open the door to reveal all its secrets.

The first thing she saw was a mass of papers hoarded on a desk, a teacher's desk, with a rainbow of tabs taped to some papers. A black leathered couch slept on the right side of the room, grinding against the wall. Two steel file cabinets cowered in the two front corners in the room, one of them had its drawers pulled out like somebody was in a hurry to scan its contents, and a window sparkled sunlight from the back, behind the desk.

A monster inside her whirled and rose its lips to flash its white fangs, ready to snap to any given moment. For once, she and that monster shared the same intentions and ambitions.

Her lips parted to showcase her white teeth into a devilish, mischievous smirk from a demon's child. Like a madman.

* * *

Lucy sat on the office chair, the spinny kind, behind the teacher's desk. A moment before, her fingers riffled through the loose cabinets and papers in the room. Her watch, as of now, read 8:34.

Her brown paper bag perched on the floor near her black shoes, only barely touching the floor. A giddy expression silently smiled on her as she waited, anticipatingly. Her hands curled up on her knees. Phrases to speak spun through her head like a jet tracing its way across the world.

Sounds that were not there before grasped her attention. Murmurs and the clank of their shoes hit the hardwood floor.

They steadily became closer and closer.

"Hey, Siegrain, don't you think–"

A purple and one white striped haired boy froze his locomotives as his back jabbed against the door frame of the room she sat in.

"Hughes?" a familiar voice called after him, a dirty blond–haired girl with cat ears appeared in sight. She looked at the purple and one white striped haired boy before staring at the strange blond–haired girl.

"What are you idiots–" a cobalt blue haired boy strolled straight into the room, keeping his gaze at the two before wiping his head forward and being stabbed by the suddenly presence of her.

Another boy with dark red hair stepped into the room, a spell casting onto his eyes.

"Hello, Siegrain Fernandes and Hughes Edoman," Lucy cracked a smile, her hands folded on the desk as she leaned in forward, excited. A beat drew a circle out of too much thrill.

"Aren't you," Siegrain's steps proceed toward her, a hostile air dumping into the room, cued by the glare in his irises, "that girl who rudely _interrupted_ my lesson to that 'Dragneel' boy?"

Her smile roughly bent upside down as she stood up from her chair to get equal eye level at the crude, cobalt blue boy, "Well, who do you think I am?"

An act. She was acting. Yet, some of the gestures and phrases she chose were out of bias corruptions. Yes, she hated his guts, all of their guts. No, she did not possess the willpower to smack and beat all four other people present before her, even if two of them have done nothing to her yet._ Yet._

Siegrain flinched but somehow transformed it into a wince of disgust, his lips snarling with the urge to insult her, "You filthy rat. What the hell do you want?"

Straight–forward and to the point. This was going to go smoothly if she played her part well and believably enough.

"You keep a lot of files here," she simply put, her hand picking a file, cloaked in the shield of a manilla folder, and waved it around in the air, "And I've got some connections to the school's newspaper club."

She slammed a hand down on the desk, a hand still holding up the file stuffed with paper, "What if I decided to hand this over to the student council, too?"

"We'll kill you first!" Hughes snapped, his eyebrows scrunching together as he pulled something out of his pocket.

Siegrain's eyes flashed an alluring glitz, "You've looked through here? Daring, I must say."

The cobalt blue boy stepped closer to her, his waist pressing the desk's edge as he leaned over and cupped her face, "What do you want, miss?"

He spoke in a soft whisper, a slit of anger and compassion hidden in his voice.

Lucy replied in the same tone of voice, "Three wishes."

He raised a brow, "That's it?"

"I get," she pushed his hand on her cheek off with her own, "to tell you the wishes at any given moment, and you must follow them or hell."

His wicked smirk returned, forced and conflicted, "Shut up. I'll follow your guidelines on one condition."

She was used to these kind of debates. She was able to pretend to be the better person, not the best though, in the room. She spoke her next line of words very carefully, "Tell me."

Siegrain's teeth began to show through his savage grin as he moved his lips to her ear and passed to her his conditions.

She watched as his face villainous twist and rip at her desperate spot, her thoughts jogging over his terms and how she could play by them illegally, "Deal."

The boy released her from his suffocating grip and backed away, "I'll contact you soon. Have a nice rest of the day."

"You too, Detective Boy," she almost forgot what to respond to him as picking up her brown bag and exiting the room, leaving Siegrain and his tortuous gang to their own services.

After her shoes stepped out of the old music building, she coughed, an icky feeling entering her bloodstream.

She hated Siegrain Fernandes, and as much as to her denial, he had won their little round of blackmail. He was a genius after all, a better one than her.

A much _better_ criminal than her.

* * *

Lucy didn't bother to go back to classes after that. She would wait until after lunch to return to her classes, starting with Laxus'.

She felt sick as she laid on the grass. Her eyes floating up to the blue sky, she stared at the clouds breeze by with freedom. She frowned.

What _was_ freedom?

Her hand dug into the brown bag at her side, taking out a blue folder with paper sticking out.

Who had been in that room before her? She thought to the pre–opened drawers and the messy, disarrangement of papers. Only one other group of conspiring rebels popped into her mind.

She ran a hand through her undone hair. She was saving Laxus' butt by doing this. Her fingers slipped the folder back into the bag, the long–term weight on her chest boring a deeper hole.

Lucy's eyes fluttered shut. All she wanted to think about was a scarf. A familiar scarf. Detailed like graph paper and soft as fabric could get, a memory dusted off her dreams as she fell into the depths of sleep.

* * *

A man with short, stubby, flame red hair knelt in front of a much younger version of Lucy. Her hair in the half–side–ponytail–do, and her eyes dried from the spilling of tears.

He had a beard that matched his lack of long hair, and the warm tilt on his mouth comforted her. Lucy wore a simple black dress, a bloody flower in her fingers.

"Life isn't that bad if you just get to know her," he smiled, fully heartfelt and shattering with kindness as his hand extended to pat her head, gently

Little Lucy sniffed, struggling to choose the right words to speak. In the end, water rinsed her eyes as she began to cry. Her fingers dropped her flower while they rose to fist her tears away. Even as hard as she tried to fight her tears off, they turned back and reappeared stronger.

The man wrapped something warm around her throat as she opened her closed eyes to get a better look, blurs shielding the corners of her eyes.

A scarf. A lovely scarf. Blue lines checkering the entire white strip of cloth. It was welcoming and cottony. The beautiful piece of clothing was tangled around her younger self's neck.

The man's sympathetic smile, that was not out of pity but out of understanding. He continued to pat her head, delicately, as the tears slipped faster from her eyes and the sobs poured out of her mouth. That day, young Lucy cried the hardest she ever did in her whole life. With the strange man comforting her doubts, she cried with both ease and just for the sake of releasing those cooped up feelings. The feelings she'd learned to bottle up in her broken heart.

That day, the young girl had discovered the _prettiest_ scarf in the entire universe.

* * *

Something soft and endearing coiled around her throat as she flickered her eyes open. _Warmth._

She touched the cheek of the boy who bent his spine to peer over her sleeping face. Her head was in his lap, criss–cross applesauce style.

His hand let pinkness eat her cheeks as he stroked her, carefully yet considerately.

She knew well of what hugged her neck and of the boy who suddenly materialized to her cries.

A lovely scarf twisted back and forth against her throat. A white base and blue lines intersecting at every square. Made of cotton angel soft fabric, familiar feelings blessed her cheeks.

The pink haired boy towered over her, silently watching her as expressions crossed her face. He sat there and brushed his hand to her heated skin. He was also quite at the hotter temperatures.

She pulled up a hand and placed it on his cheek. The beautiful scarf melting something deep inside her. He was so familiar.

For a moment, they stared at each other, their eyes whispering secrets to one another like a disease.

"Natsu, thank you," her voice shook, the wetness tearing up in her eyes, "Thank _you."_

He didn't blink as the suddenly burst of water dripped down her flushed cheeks. Her hand curled around his cheek as her other hand held tightly to the prettiest scarf in the entire universe. In between her sobs, the sincere words of "thank you" and "thank you so much" could be deciphered from her lips. Her strawberry_ sweet_ lips.

Her moment of weakness showed as she cried, nearly as hard as she did the day she had met the strange yet kind man. Natsu only petted her cheek, rubbing away her nightmares.

The nightmares of her mother, Wesslogia, her father, Sting's guilt, her and Sting's price to pay, her worries, her secrets, and the feelings she'd been hiding under the mask of acting.

She let the tears run down her face as she cried even more. The only things keeping her from breaking were Natsu and his gorgeous scarf.

The scarf she'd_ loved_ so much as a child and even now.

The adored scarf that belonged to both the boy who was beginning to pick up her scatter pieces and the man who ripped open her broken heart.

The tears dripped off her cheeks as her fingers clawed at the lovely scarf around her raw throat. The pink haired boy who rounded her whole pressed his lips against her forehead.

All she could feel was the stinging taste of strawberry sweet lollipops and the radiating heat of his cherished scarf wrapped to her skin. This was all she ever wanted to feel since she'd found her one and only_ beloved..._

* * *

**Author's Note: Have any of you burst into tear yet? Do you feel that squeeze of your heart?**

**That's pretty much the theme of this story. To send heartfelt feelings to you.**

**I like this chapter too. And thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed, and read this story! It means a lot.**

**Anyways, I want to know your feelings about this chapter so review away my minions!~  
**


	4. Illegal

**Author's Note: Sorry, not much of Natsu this chapter. Just Lucy stuff. He's coming though. And more characters! (I got lazy and haven't proofread this.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail. Don't fuckin' sue me.**

* * *

**ACT 4: Illegal**

Some days, she felt like someone was watching her. And they probably were since she got herself into so many different scenarios. Most which were quite shady and illegal. At least, she was always handy with a whip for self–defense.

For minute, she stayed there crying in the hands of Natsu Dragneel with a scarf tied to her skin.

However the moment that dawned on her that she needed to stop whining was when Natsu spoke tactfully, "Lucy, classes."

The blond haired girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and propped herself up from the ground, away from Natsu's lap.

"Yeah," she mumbled, picking up her brown bag off the ground and standing on her two feet, "Thanks."

She watched as his lips drew into a line, "My scarf."

"Right. Can I borrow it?" she asked politely, tucking her mouth into the scarf's cloth, quite attached to the item.

"No," he snapped at her, his eyes grazing with defiance. Then, realizing what he said, he scratched his head and murmured, forcefully, "Okay. Give it back after school."

"Bye," she twisted her back to him, her fingers hugging the beloved scarf around her neck.

"It belonged to my father," she heard him suddenly speak, hushed though clear.

Lucy turned back around and stared at him, astonished, "What?"

"My dad's," his cheeks baked to a red, his hands cupping his voice to amplify it, "That scarf was my dad's! Take care of it, Lucy!"

Blooming with pink, she yelled back to him, copycatting his gesture, "I promise!"

Natsu smiled, defrosting the cold around her temple and shoving the flowers near him to blossom into spring, "Yeah."

He turned and walked away from her, hands in his pockets. Lucy bit her lip and faced away from him. Strawberry venom, you scum.

* * *

Her watch's clock hands told her it was 10:30. The time which classes swapped and switched. Also the time when Mr. Dreyar had no classes in his possession to teach physics very badly.

Lucy had returned to classes after her encounter with Natsu. Now she played to skip again to have a chat with Laxus. Thought, bonus points, she had the comfort of his scarf around her throat.

"Laxus!" her voice shouted, shoving open the door to Mr. Dreyar's classroom where he sat with his legs up on his desk and a magazine in his hands. Sorcerer Weekly to be precise.

"What?" he raised his eyebrow, defining his eye scar on his right.

"We need to talk," she stared him straight into the eye, slamming her palm on his desk and tossing him her brown paper bag.

Laxus' face switched from unamused to amused within seconds, "Oh? If Lucy wants to talk then it's got to be something interesting."

She frowned, her eyeballs rolling downhill, "Look in the bag."

He peeked into the bag and immediately smirked, like Siegrain, "Let's talk somewhere else, Heartfilia."

* * *

Laxus had took her outside to the rooftop that was suppose to be locked though as a teacher, Laxus, had a key in his pocket to open it.

She watched him sit down on the only bench there and relax, stretching his arms over the ledge of it. Why did Laxus choose the rooftop of all places?

"So, Lucy, you gotta present to me your project or what?" he cued her to perform like a monkey who juggled bananas. While wearing a banana suit.

She let a sigh steam out her mouth. From his graduate and now, he was and became two separate people; the silly Laxus who constantly half–assed everything to the tyranny Laxus who acted like the big ass man in power to everyone within a five million radius of his eyebrow scar.

She missed the senior high student Laxus from last year.

Retrieving the blue folder from her brown bag at Laxus' side, she began to open it and inform him of the situation, "Remember that Detective Boy from the police forces?"

His face stiffened, interested, "Huh? Yeah. What about that little high school brat?"

"He's conspiring with gangs. Or in other words, he's the leader of 'The Tower of Heaven'," she recited the information printed on paper within the blue folder's contents, "Even though he's suppose to be helping out the cops, he's got his eyes set on reviving something called 'The R System'."

"Tch," the blond haired teacher cocked his head, " So what? Kid's feeling a bit rebellious now."

"But," she fixed the scarf on her, not taking her eyes off the blue folder's papers, "His gang's alternate name is 'Paradise' which is the same as–"

"The guys who stole from the pyromatics two weeks ago? So?" one of Laxus' hand now held up his chin, still unfazed by her logic and findings.

"In these files, Siegrain is plotting some kind of strategy to exit and steal something from a building. Although, I can't figure out which since they're so identical to every other building in town," she glanced over the papers in her hands, puzzled.

"Plotting?" his face perked up a bit, "Something big or small?"

"Big," she answered him, flipping through the files, "It has to be. But, this is all in code. I can't tell what is what. I need a translator. But so far, I know they're planning to hit next week on a Tuesday. It'll affect you, Laxus."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"Because," she dropped her focus from her papers and onto him, "I went to investigate the old music building. I know you sent Evergreen to look into Siegrain's hideout this morning. I saw the messy papers all over the place, and I know how Evergreen tends to get a little panicked. You're lucky I covered for you and the Thunder God Tribe."

Now Laxus' eyes widened, the state of shock scratching his expression then replacing with curiosity, "You're smart, Lucy. I always knew you were since you started to pick up the books when you were younger. When your mother died, I knew it had hit you hard, and I knew those books and your little imagery friends were all you had."

"What's that got to do with this," she interrogated him coldly, not really wanting him to speak of the past and not the future.

"Lucy, look, I'm your cousin even if we got this little blackmail friendship going on. And, Siegrain's little plan has got to be stopped because," he paused, not sure of what to add to his sudden urge to speak so encouragingly.

"Because Siegrain might know of your dad, and you wanna know about it," she finished for him, her eyes browsing through her papers again, "I know you're obsessed about him. Lately, I've been feeling everyone's a little attached to their parents."

"Yea, that too," his attention darted up to the sky, melancholy memoirs from his childhood could be easily read from his dark eyes, "And I know you can outsmart him. You and yourself."

Lucy was startled by his honest outburst. Her eyes traced with fear and dread. She wasn't better than Fernandes. He was. She was just better at pretending to be.

Uncomfortably, her fingers bit into Natsu's scarf, "You know, you could come back."

"No, I ain't going back to see that ugly old man. Not in a million years or ever," Laxus huffed, the stubbornness he was born with corrupting his answer.

Lucy scowled, her hand tucking hair from her face, "That's why you took the job here at Carmen? Even though physics was your best subject, it was only a C. Plus, I help you organize your lesson plans. I still don't know how you graduated and got offered a job as a teacher here of all places."

"Quit downsizing me, punk," he scoffed, his chin tilted like some high–classed and bitchy king, "You still have to go get the Raven's subby boss soon."

"I know," her voice dropped from its overly emotional state to a flat plain, "I'll start tomorrow or something. I still wanna look into this."

The blond haired girl pointed at the blue folder in her hands.

"This folder and their hideout ain't enough for you? Greedy much. You gotta want for the right moment for the lightning to strike," he leaned back, crossing his arms approving his own statement.

"It's _tiger_ and _pounce,"_ she walked over to sit next to Laxus on the bench, "And I know a few of their members and Siegrain's faces because they walked in on me when I was sneaking around."

_Liar,_ she voiced in her head, _the tiny light of truth blinding her excuses, you were waiting for them to return to gamble for information and assistance. Instead, you made a bad deal like you always end up doing._

"Oh really? That means they know your face. Isn't that bad?" he chuckled, laughing at her thought foolishness when she had meant to do that.

"It's fine. I plan to blackmail them anyways so," she released some cogged air in her throat, "it doesn't matter anymore."

"Lucy, you can't just blackmail everyone because I do that," Laxus rolled his eyes, the least of sympathetic in his voice, "Copycat."

"Laxus, you taught me that," she stuck her tongue out at him, closing her blue folder, "You suck, I'm leaving."

"You bitch! Get back here, I know you still have an juicy information to spill, informat!"

But it was too late, Lucy already had her face away from Laxus as she swung open the door from the rooftop down to the next level. In her hands was her brown paper bag which she had snatched from Mr. Dreyar's side and her blue folder. Her fingers waving a goodbye to the shell of her former friend, the girl's shoes slipped down a case of stairs until she reached flat flooring.

However instead of walking back to her classes, she sat down on the very last stairstep and stared at the blue folder's contents.

Blue prints and addresses in code inked the papers. Yes, Lucy was a genius. But, no, she wasn't a translator. This was a puzzle, she could figure it out, right? Laxus had said she and Siegrain were on the same level of intelligence so she should be able to decode these papers.

But, they weren't. He was better, and she couldn't get that fact out of her head.

* * *

"Failure," she met the eye of her reflection in the mirror. Once again she was visiting the girl's bathroom. Her brown bag containing her blue folder and other anonymous items dangled on her arm as she switched on the faucet for the water to pour on her soapy fingers.

The water spilled on her hands as she washed them before pushing the knob off, shutting off the water.

It was almost lunch time if you didn't count two classes wedged in between before it, and she had spent the last hour and a half intensely analyzing her reapings from Siegrain's hideout. So far, she had figured out nothing of trivial interest.

"Artifeltian?" she watched through the mirror as a beautiful white haired lady emerged from the stall behind her. Last time they had met, she was wearing black clothes, but today she wore a pink dress that reached her ankles. It suited her better than the black outfit.

"For the last time," Lucy sighed, her self–esteem already cut low from a certain blue folder, "It's _Heartfilia."_

"Oh, right," Mirajane corrected herself, blowing a piece of hair from her face, as she strolled over to the sink beside Lucy and began to wash her hands, "Sorry, I've been distracted lately."

"Why?" Lucy frowned, pretending to be checking out her own hair in the mirror, "Is your modeling job not going well?"

"No, modeling is just part–time. It's fine. I work here as a receptionist. And I don't do much but keep track of budgets and school records," Mira said to her, reading the words as if she'd been reciting them all her life.

"How come I never see you? Nobody has seen you that often," Lucy now was glancing at the white haired girl, seeing the moment of opportunity passing her eyes.

"I work in the back. Ms. Babasaama works up front," Mira spoke, her eyes focused on her hands still underwater, underwater for too long now, "Lately, I've been skipping work. Both as a model and receptionist. Family issues."

"Is that why you're so unhappy?" the blond purposely pried as much as she didn't want to, she hated prying, "Usually when I see you in magazines you seem so happy–"

"Shut up!" she watched as the white haired girl burst, finally meeting her fiery blue eyes into her brown ones, her fists curling up, "You don't know how it feels to have your little sister ripped from your fingertips right in front of you! It's horrible, and it's all my shitty fault! I'm a terrible person!

"I couldn't do anything for her! I used to be that cheery, nice type of girl everyone wanted to be, but now… now I just want to be the monster that tears up people's_ lives!_ I want to become the demon that devours the ones who wronged her!"

Tears dripped from her wildly crazed irises as she shouted through the ladies' bathroom, "I'd rather have blood on my hands than blood surrounding me! It's not like I'm not a bad person already! I'm a_ failure,_ that's just_ it."_

Mira's knees bent down as she squatted down and let her arms wrap around her knees, protectively. The water fell off her skin while she cringed, allowing herself to just let go of the baggage that weighed her heart down.

Lucy didn't blink as she bent down to Mira's level and started to wrap her scaly scarf around the neck of the white haired girl.

"We can be failures together then," Lucy whispered after she finally finished tangling Natsu's heartwarming scarf on Mira. She knew that Mira didn't want pity. Pity was the worst; Mira wanted empathy. Somebody who understood what she felt.

A spark of the smallest hope popped off of Mira as she rose her head from her knees, soaked with tears and smoldered with fear.

"Th–Thanks," Lucy listened to the scene of the crying girl speak as water continued to drip from her chin. It reminded Lucy of Natsu, who not too long ago had comforted her when she'd reached her limit. When the red haired man comforted her at her mother's funeral.

The blue lined scarf was, indeed, sewed with magical properties. Magical fairy tale–like properties that warmed every person's heart it came into contact with.

She patted the head of Mirajane Strauss who wiped her eyes and cried there on the floor a little longer while wearing a familiar muffler.

Fairy Tail.

* * *

_**Levy:**__ Hey, Lu. How are you? Like the rhythm?_

Lucy fixed the scarf around her throat, glancing up at her Algebra teacher, Mr. Lates, who was semi–flirting with a girl in the front row while teaching the class some weird formulas on the whiteboard.

She typed a reply to her buddy on her phone under the desk, carefully observing while Mr. Lates was watching the red–haired girl in the third row.

_**Lucy:**__ Oh~... I feel sick._

_**Levy:**__ Shut up. I rejected Jet. He's spent two days straight in his room, and I now have given up trying to get him out. Droy is bored. My sister is still annoying. I'm translating stuff for my part–time job right now._

Her elbow poked the blue folder on her lap. Her eyes immediately sparkled in response.

_**Lucy:**__ Can you translate encoded messages like the ones in top secret spy movies?_

It only took a second for the little ding to tell her Levy's reply, but in the meanwhile, she locked eyes with her phone, intensely.

_**Levy:**__ Yeah. It comes to me pretty easy. What? Did you buy one of those children's top agent books again? Or are you watching a movie and wanna figure it out before the main character? Is it a book?_

Lucy eagerly nodded before realizing Levy couldn't see her nod in real life. Quickly, she opened her blue folder under her desk and selected the some of the papers that were encoded, which was nine out of twelve of them. Laying on her lap and scattered, she took a photo of each and sent them to Levy.

_**Lucy:**__ It's a secret, Levy. Deceifer these please. (–__**Lucy Heartfilia**__ has attached __**9 photos**__ to this message.)_

_**Levy:**__ Gimme a couple minutes. I'll send text you the translations. It'll be good practice!_

Ten minutes. When her eyes snapped from the clock in the corner of her phone to Levy's new message. Dragons leaped out of the oceans like dolphins under her skin.

_**Levy:**__ Wow, this is some pretty intense stuff, Lu. (–__**Levy McGarden**__ has attached__** 9 photos**__ to this message.)_

Lucy tapped on the "9 photos" phrase, colored bold in blue, downloading the pictures into the phone's camera roll. Immediately, she ran over to the photos and emailed them to herself, ensuring that she could be able to see them anywhere she went.

"Lucy Heartfilia? Is that I see," her head sprung up from facing the floor at Mr. Lates' voice chirping at her, "your eyes not lain upon me?"

She smiled at him, her phone dropping into her lap, "Die, Hibiki."

"Hey!" he jumped as the marker in his hand was tossed to the blood–haired girl's head, "Lucy!"

Then, a desk was chucked into the air at the blessed head of Hibiki Lates who later was sent to the hospital with only minor injuries. Well, if you considered minor as a fractured skull and a bald spot on the top of your half–decent head minor.

In this case, it was no good for womanizing Hibiki.

* * *

Free of the remaining minutes of her algebra class and lunch break tagging along, freedom was bliss so she was content with her newfound free time.

"Lucky,_ lucky_ Lucy!~" she sang, her arms swinging at her sides while the most carefree grin wiping her face. She was inside, walking through the many, many hallways webbing each other to various locations. Her brown bag was currently with her, dancing on her arm, and Natsu's scarf knotted to her throat comfortably.

A certain long, black haired boy turned a corner in her visional of sight. His face was coated with several layers of sweat and red colored his pale cheeks. He was running toward her, his arms bouncing from his sides. Really fast actually.

"Rogue!"

Her lungs squeaked as his body concluded with hers, toppling her to the floor tiles. His fat, heavy body weight slammed her down to gravity's base. Rogue was the hella heavy. He didn't show much of the extra pounds, but when you bust exercises at the gym every five minutes, you tend to gain weight in muscles.

"Oh, Lucy!" his voice panicked as he pried himself off of her and stood onto his two feet, extending an apologetic hand to her, "Sorry, I was looking for you. I didn't mean to, uh, ya know."

"You owe me," she demanded plainly, rubbing the back of her neck as accepting his hand, "a strawberry shake at lunchtime."

"Yeah, 'course," he nodded, too quick to be natural, as he thrusted her up on her legs with their interlocked hands.

An unrequited silence screamed between the two as they awkwardly stood there, facing each other.

"Uh, Lucy," she stared at the white envelope suddenly passed in front of her by the hands of Rogue Cheney, "I was told to give you this. I hope you're not doing anything bad again."

She stole the envelope from him quickly, tearing it open without hesitation and reading its contents. Except there was none. The envelope was empty, and there was nothing written on the envelope's front side but a dumb picture of a cat that she had not noticed before. The picture was horribly drawn and was a fly compared to some four year–old's doodle of their stepdad.

"The fuck. Is this a prank?" her head lifted to question Rogue who dipped his head shamefully.

"Sorry. I don't know. Some guy in a ninja mask captured me and told me to give this to you or else," his face flushed, embarrassed, and his fingers silently fiddled with the other.

"Or else what?" she scowled, a glare shifting her once happy expression to her famously world–renowned irritated one.

His mouth opened, shouting unparallel to his personality, "Or else he'll spill that I still like Yukino!"

His outburst surprised Lucy's exception. Usually, Rogue just would shrug off such a topic and ask her how to eat four blueberry muffins in one bite. But here was the one and only, Rogue, his breathing unbalanced, and his body language whispered to her that he was nervous and provoked. There was something wild about him. Unpredictable.

Additionally, there were the starry, explosive sparks again. Blasting off into the dark, empty spaces of his eyes, the fireballs expanded his world every second, allowing him access to new emotions and new wishes. Allowing him to see through different lenses, his nature had just began to change.

Natsu. Yukino. Sting. Rogue.

What were the sparks flickering off these four different people's eyes' reason to be alive? To be a spark inside their kerosene of hope and hope?

No, she'd experienced it once before long, long ago.

When pretending wasn't something on her mind.

When her life was dedicated to laughing with her mother and Wesslogia's cottage was somewhere like a glamorous castle.

No, it had been something else.

Books and imaginary friends.

Celestic yet stellar.

"That's out of the loop," her mouth commented blankly, her eyes piercing not in Rogue's direction but right passed his shoulder where she hit a wall.

She would always hit a wall. Dead–end paths. A sidewalk leading off into a cliff.

"I guess so," Rogue's head turned and pressed into the crook of his shoulder, a displeased frown glossed his mouth, "I'm walking on dead grass, aren't I?"

Lucy thought back to what Yukino had said. She was indirectly implying that she liked Sting. That she was romantically interested in Lucy's brother.

That she was tripping over her feet and into a pit filled with snakes or maybe even bees.

"Yeah," she recited nonchalantly, her head tilting in wonder up to the ceiling where a light blinded her vision, "I guess I am, too."

* * *

After Rogue bought her an outstanding strawberry milkshake, they split their ways, and now Lucy sat in the janitor's closet with her phone snuggled up on her lap, shining light into the dim, windowless space.

She was currently reading Levy's translations from that one blue folder while slurping on her shake.

The results were mind–blowing and sick. Not the good, rad kind of mind–blowing and sick. The one that's smoldered with a blood–written smiley face on a butchered corpse.

Disgusting.

_**Lucy:**__ I didn't expect that._

She sighed, her breath sizzling over her tongue.

Siegrain was the leader of The Tower of Heaven, or also known as "Paradise". They were going to strike at Vermillion Tales, a building in the middle of town which is cluttered with businesses occupying each story. It was a entrepreneur's dream to be set in this building. The Magnolia Police Department was living there on the twenty–first floor. There was also Magnolia's official bank a couple levels up.

The pyromaniac's shop plans were also slipped into one of the translations. Everything made sense. The date was correct. It was suppose to be showcased as an ameuter robberry with flaws but not juicy enough to rake up a trail. Siegrain had thought absolutely everything through.

It was quite intimidating.

A jingle greeted her warmly as she raced to check her messages.

_**Levy: **__It's deep. What are you getting yourself into, Lu?_

She paused, letting a lie draw itself into her mind as she started to type back her reply.

_**Lucy:**__ Relax. I found some ancient papers from the back cabinets of the police station. I just got a little curious._

_**Levy:**__ Oh? Trying to play detective in those old timey, back–to–the–past films where the main character tries to figure out past crimes with the little and aged evidence he has? What were you doing at the police station?_

_**Lucy:**__ I was doing some community work. Now shut up. I'm heading back to classes. Don't you dare text me._

_**Levy:**__ Can't promise, Lulu. ;)_

Levy was a great informat, even if she didn't know it. Lucy slurped the last of her strawberry shake by its straw into her mouth. Her fingers cuddled with the scarf around her neck.

This was not time to be fantasizing.

She glanced at the time in the corner of her phone. It was too late to return to classes now since they had started twenty minutes ago.

Oh well, skipping class was beginning to become convenient.

Thanks, Natsu.

After that one thought, she slapped herself in the face and strolled out of the janitor's closet, aiming to head off of school grounds and into the city as a truant, rebellious student.

Time to do one of the many errands she was forced to do for a Laxus Dreyar, her backstabbing cousin. What a nice family she had.

* * *

Her shoes patted down the streets of Magnolia, and her brown bag, out of sight, stashed away in the deepest depths of her locker. Her scarf was knotted to her neck, brushing out of the way by wind.

Strawberry Street. She was walking on Strawberry Street. Wendy's shop was here, wasn't it? Maybe she should stop by. Then again, who would have known a Raven Tail minor base would be held here?

It was darker than she liked it to be. Probably a storm passing through or something.

On the sidewalk, her feet stopped in front of a corner, cutting into an alley. There was an engraving on the corner. She walked closer to it, her fingers dancing over it.

An arrow, pointing out of the alley. Bingo.

Laxus had said that there was an engraving on a corner of an alley. Now, she just had to go into the alley.

She peered into the said alley and strolled in. It was shady enough, how cliche.

She walked a few paces until to her right was a dumpster. She kicked it.

_Clang._

It was hollow. She bent over to one of its side and tore at an odd loose corner of the metal. It ripped open right away. Through the dim light, there was a stairwell heading down underground into hell, being hidden by the dumpster's safety.

She crouched down and crawled under the dumpster until there was enough room to walk. She let her shoes drop down on each step, lightly to to make soft tapping noises. It was dark, she couldn't see a thing.

Lucy continued walking, her feet reaching an unexpected flat, forcing a small yelp out of her. A trigger fixed, loudly, as a bang chased afterwards. A slice of air breezed past her ears; she nearly flinched. Somebody had tried to shot her. They knew she was here.

A basement, of course. Raven Tail was so predictable. They had a hide–out under a dumpster in an alley below ground level. Laxus was right. Now all she had to do was prevent herself from getting killed because here in the shady parts of Magnolia, as long as nobody knows, anything's good.

A man with purple hair flashed a light into her eyes, suddenly a spotlight radiated her skin, defining her figure. The only people she could see in the room was the purple haired man who she recognized as the man who ran the pet shop around Crocus Park. Eryk, was it?

He was also the one holding the gun.

She was sure that she had an audience roaming in the black shadows of where the spotlight didn't reach. Focus, she had to exploit each figure out before attacking.

"And who the hell are you?" Eryk's finger wrapped around the trigger of his handgun, pulling again so a bullet spun right past her ear again. Bisca had better threats than this.

And this was no acting. She had confidence. Pride. Something to fight for.

A smile glittered on her lips as she bent down and retrieved something from the inside of her right shoe. A baton, its height matching a pencil, with numerous buttons decorating its outer shell.

Lucy held the baton in one hand as ripping some kind of fake skin shielding her right hand. As tearing off the fake skin, a pink tattoo was inked in its place. Her smile widened. These people, these people raised a hand against her and them. So why not pay them back sevenfolds?

The blond haired girl pressed a button on the baton as a thin line released from the top of its head. Her hand raised and made the motion of throwing it to the ground, yet the baton stayed in her hands. Then, she cracked it. The baton was a whip.

Her right hand raised up in the hand, her pink tattoo glowing in the light, as her other hand cracked her whip, ready for anything and anyone. A certain scarf, one former to a man with crimson hair, looped around her throat, warming her of the cold hostile air from Eryk and his fellow foot soldiers.

One phrase, she had recited so many times, spoke out of her mouth like a foreign strawberry language echoing through a celestial voice that was hers alone,

"Lucy of Fairy Tail, at your service."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm just gotta have fun and leave you guys in the dark until the next time I update.**

**Remember the reviews! Thank you for everything!**


	5. Distance Of

**Author's Note: Oh my god, Guest in the reviews from last chapter I want to like talk with you because YOU'RE THE MOST GENIUSEST PERSON I'VE EVER MET OH MY GOD I SHOULD HAVE DONE THAT! GAYSHIP WAS GOTTA BE IN HERE LATER BUT ANY GIRL-GUY CONFUSION IN THIS BELONGS TO YOU SIR! YOU HOT ASS GENIUS! I'M DISAPPOINTED YOU DON'T HAVE AN ACCOUNT ON HERE! WE COULD BE THE BROS OF THE HOES!**

**You are the best.**

**Anyways, no more message through A/N, and let's get down to business with this chapter! **

* * *

**ACT 5: Distance Of**

"They insulted Fairy Tail so they should die."

The memory was still fresh in her mind.

The old man bent his spine to look over at the young girl's standing figure, his chapped lips pursing in disapproval, "Yet, it is not right to take somebody's life. Do you not agree with this, Lucy?"

A version of Lucy, older than when her mother died but younger than when she had met the only pink haired boy in town who wore a scarf, frowned. A conflicted glitz shielded her expression.

"I don't understand," her head bowed to the old floorboards of the bar, her eyebrows knitting together, "Then, how can you protect family without staining your hands a little?"

"Have you ever heard of self–defense and murder?" his voice croaked as she stared up at him confused.

Then, Lucy nodded viciously, her side ponytail bobbing with her. When she didn't understand something, she wanted to dissect it so she could. Currently, she was gathering information until she could begin the dissection.

"There is a difference between protecting and manslaughter," his gaze titled upto the ceiling as he spoke, his voice wisping into a soft whisper, "Without valuing life, how can you find comfort in the arms of others?"

"There is a thin line between the two. It is hard to distinct one from another. I can only say," his voice paused as a void of air entered into his lungs by a short wheeze, "that people change, Lucy. And if you take their life, then how can you know if the man who swore against your kin could be the same man who saves your skin from the fingertips of death?"

"I," his hands shook as his eyes stared up into oblivion, the wisdom from his tongue telling her from past experiences, haunting the old man in his dreams, "do not know either."

"Makarov," the young twelve year–old girl's eyes darted from his stature, sitting on top of the bar counter, to a wall adjacent to her, "Then, why do I find myself wanting to shove a knife up someone's back?"

The old man immediately chopped her on the head with the side of his hand, "Brat! Don't call me Makarov, I'm Master to you!"

"But, child," his voice sustained from its scolding state to a more neutral one, "After you hurt somebody, it's something you wouldn't, couldn't, ever do again. It's not worth it."

Makarov's head faced the ground as the young Lucy pondered for a second before speaking again, "Okay, Master, I think I understand. People's lives are important because they're irreplaceable. Yet, revenge is something that should only go so far."

"Somebody else has taught you, have they not?" Makarov's mouth crinkled into a weak smile followed by a short cackle.

"My mother did," she puffed out her cheeks, her face glowing in red guilt.

His smile grew brighter as he leaned even more down to her and asked, "She taught you well."

"I hate her. So Master, when can I join Fairy Tail?" Lucy's voice quickly dropped the subject of one of her two parents and glanced up at Makarov, hopefully.

"Well," he leaned back and rubbed his head, searching the room with his eyes for an answer, "How about if you just keep sticking around here as an honorary member?"

The twelve year–old scowled, her arms crossing as she pouted, "I want to join Fairy Tail."

The old man sighed, reluctantly giving into Lucy's wishings, as slouching down to her level and meeting her eye "Gee, fine. Only if you get good grades and get into that one high–classed, super elite school around here for highschool."

"I'll do it," Lucy's eyes sparked, the heat rising into her brown irises and bouncing off into the entire room, starting a blazing fire.

"Haha. What?" Makarov laughed at first, nervously, before darting back at Lucy's level and asking her again, "What did you say?"

"I'll do it, Makarov! I'll get into Carmen and become an official member of Fairy Tail!" she gleamed, her teeth perking up into a smile. Her arms swung high into the air, determined and excited. Her dream was to become a member of Fairy Tail, and as of now, she was one step closer to it.

This was the spark she seemed so familiar with, one of them at least. When she was happy, content with what she had. When pixiedust was something in the back of her pocket. She loved Fairy Tail, her nirvana and place of safety. Her home. Her only home.

Fireworks exploded and bombs set off. Ambition for something she adored. That was what the spark cloaked behind the eyes of people she'd witness burst into flames for.

She wanted to name the dazzling spark she'd watched for so, so long.

Étincelle

The spark's name was étincelle.

And at that moment when Master had given her the opportunity of joining Fairy Tail, she held étincelle for a few seconds in the palm of her hand.

"Stupid, stupid child!" the old man once again jabbed the side of his hand into the young Lucy's skull, "I told you to call me Master!"

* * *

Her arms were sore. Eryk was technically dead. Those Raven Tail grunts should really turn on the lights.

Her back was pressed against a wall, her eyes shielded with the pitch of the dark. Murmurs and footsteps bruised her ears. Occasional spots of white wandered passed her sight as Raven Tail members searched for her through the dark with a flashlight. Raven Tail was currently trying to relocate her inside of their one of their many scattered bases, this one under a dumpster on Strawberry Street.

When Lucy had politely introduced herself as a member of Fairy Tail, Raven Tail had gone on an outright war with her, even though she was obviously alone. The same Fairy Tail that all Raven Tail members seemed to despise due to their code of conduct befounded from hate.

Fairy Tail was something special to Lucy. It was nothing out of the ordinary yet something out of the unique. Fairy Tail was a gang, sometimes referred to by the more involved party as "guilds".

And she was a foolishly person conspiring with them.

Her whip named Fleuve d'étoiles was in her hand, the line extended and ready to strike.

When the Raven Tail lackeys lunged for her and her dead body, including Eryk, her whip had came at full force at their necks, malicious enough to straggle their supply of oxygen to a stop. Apparently, her whip's line had wrapped around Eryk's throat, and in reaction, he slammed to the floor, squirming before he went limp. Lucy had reeled back her whip from Eryk's flesh and kicked her shoes away from the mess as Raven Tail's crew slaught after her blood. Actually, they'd gotten her good with whatever weapons in their hands they'd had during the ten seconds that had taken place when they pounced on her while she knotted her whip into Eryk.

At least Natsu's scarf left the stage unscathed.

Her fingers ran over a flesh cut on her elbow, wet with liquid she couldn't see.

Lucy moved forward from her position on the wall, tugging her corpse against its smooth, freezing surface. One step forward, another step forward. Rinse and repeat.

Moments later, she hit her face with another wall, shoving her backwards. It took some retrainment to not curse and whine at that very moment, but she sucked it up and stood up from the ground, using the wall to help her up. Her whip in a hand, she pressed a button on the top of the handle. A noisy zip, though not too loud, snapped at its handle. The whip's tail was now tucked inside what looked like a baton.

Oh, how she loved her extendable whip. To make it longer or shorter, shove a finger on a button. It's baton–like form fit anywhere she could hide it. Under her skirt, in her shoe, and even in her shirt but don't think too much of it.

Gajeel was the best in the mechanical department.

She lifted her free hand in front of her, placing pressure against the second wall she'd found. It was a corner, and if she follow the second wall, she might find another corner that leads into a hallway.

Thus, the blond turned and followed the second wall on its path, still using a hand to guide her way. A few more lights flashed in her vision, but none of them dangerously close to her shadowy figure as she swallowed gallons of silence on her tongue.

Her fingers glided over a stop on the wall, an edge poking her flesh. Another corner. She peered down the corner as the crisp ambition traced the black in her pupils. A shining source of artificial sun, this time not beaming from a flashlight, cut through the black that her eyes had been blinded with. There was a room at the end of the hallway at the corner she'd discovered. The room's door was slightly cracked open, and the lights inside conveniently turned on.

Lucy, out of desperation, sprinted toward the door and slammed the door to its full capacity of opening. The whip in her fingers lashed out to whatever monster gasped and held their gun barrel to her throat with a foreign scarf cuddling it. Somebody pulled the trigger, a salvo blasting through her ears.

* * *

The cuts gnawed at her skin, leaving it dripping with blood. Her fingers ran through the wounds bruising her arms. She'd just finished the job at the Raven Tail base on Strawberry Street. As of now, a purple haired man laid unconscious to her right. One of Laxus' lackeys planned to pick the guy up sooner or later.

For now, she was waiting.

Her clothes were stained with splotches of red. Good thing she'd changed out of her school uniform beforehand. Though black tank top and jean shorts weren't the best thing to wear in the middle of fall, it was the only wardrobe change she kept in her locker at school. Bad thing was, she'd wore Natsu's precious scarf into the job.

Honestly, it didn't look too bad. A couple of bloodstains and a gigantic tear on one of its tail.

Lucy shook her head, disappointed in her abilities of comforting herself. No, she lied. It was really bad. It was really obvious. This scarf was absolute life to Natsu, and she killed it.

She was a horrible person.

"Lucy," her head perked up from bowing to the ground. Green–haired Freed sat in his red truck, the windows rolled down and his arms hanging out from it.

"Hi, Freed," she responded, picking up Eryk from the back of his collar dragging him toward Freed's truck.

"This is the substitute boss?" Freed's eyebrow raised as he left his truck's inside to help her, "Isn't this?"

"Yeah, I know. It's the pet shop guy, the one who grooms Bickslow's kids," she answered for him, handing him Eryk's collar as Freed took it.

Lucy liked Freed. He was straight–forward. Straight–forward like her. But for some reason, he didn't like her. She didn't understand why, but she had the smallest gist of it as usual. Laxus. She had Laxus' attention, something out of Freed's reach.

The Thunder God Tribe was a gang, only consisting of four members; Evergreen, Bickslow, Freed, and their leader, Laxus Dickass.

Lately, Laxus was being more dick–ish than usual. Bossing people around and acting like the top man. He was forgetting something very important within the nature of the Thunder God Tribe.

Freed's mouth tipped into a line while he dumped Eryk's living corpse into the front of his truck.

"Freed," Lucy's hand curled around her chin, deep in thought, "Are you possibly gay for Laxus?"

"Wha–wha–wha–what?" Freed's face smashed into his car door, skin bursting into red alert as his eyes widen in shock.

"I mean," her eyes glued to the ground, still stuck inside of her mind, "Bickslow's been telling me about that stack of photos under your bed. Don't worry, Freed, I have a friend just like you. Obsessed with–"

"I AM NOT GAY FOR LAXUS!" his hands spread out in defense, face flushed in embarrassment and denial.

"Oh, then again, Juvia's a girl so I guess you're not all that similar," Lucy's eyes glanced up at Freed's overheating expression and position, his back pressing against his red truck as he struggled to put as much room between him and Lucy as possible while staying near his vehicle.

"Freed? You should get going before Eryk wakes up," her head tilted, her eyes curiously sparkling with mischief.

"I AM NOT GAY FOR LAXUS!" Freed repeated reluctantly, his hands covering his cheeks, as he raced in his car door and slammed it shut, acting as if a zombie apocalypse was occurring.

"It's okay to admit it, Freed! Sting probably has a sister complex so whatever!" Lucy cupped her hand around her mouth as she shouted, the scenery of Freed's red truck quickly speeding after from her on the road, maybe going faster than the speed limit suggests.

Oh, now she remembered why Freed didn't like her; she always tended to naturally tease him.

And thus, the afternoon of Lucy Heartfilia was spent infiltrating one of the many Raven Tail's bases within Magnolia, stealing and kidnapping their temp–boss, and teasing a green haired man with insecurity problems.

* * *

It hadn't been long ever since her incident with trading Eryk's body for a snip of entertainment from easy–to–mess–with Freed Justine. She was nearly off of Strawberry Street. A street that held captive many fateful memories that belonged to her.

Lucy remembered her mother and a five year–old look–alike of herself strolling down the newly paved sidewalk, hands gripping tightly onto the other's. Those were one of the days her mother was home within the reach of the Eucliffe household. Her mother's smile dazzled little Lucy as she squealed in delight, her hand squeezing her mother's.

Their intertwined hands swung back and forth like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. It rocked from side to side, adamantly following its chosen way of life.

Within the insides of her ears, she listened to the faraway giggles of Layla Heartfilia and Lucy Eucliffe passing her by the sidewalk, ignoring her virtual presence in the aged video taped hidden deep inside her head.

Present Lucy's lips pursed.

"Lucy?" her head snapped back from staring over her shoulder at the pink haired boy gripping tightly onto the backpack dangling on his fingertips.

"Lucy, what happened?" his voice was sterner now, not dwelling in the drug of paralysis as he took a step closer to her.

She swallowed roughly, unable to clean up the pile of memories still sticking onto her skin, "Nothing. It's nothing, Natsu."

"Oh yeah?" his voice was climbing higher, something scorched her skin as he bluntly snatched up her wrist, pulling it up so the rest of her arm could be examined properly, "What's with all these cuts? The blood? And why are there bruises on your face?"

"I got into a fight," Lucy answered him, only half–way handing him the truth as so the media tampering with precious information while her eyes found interest down to her feet.

"How?" he bit his lip, eyes glaring at her quite dangerously making her feel small. Jude Carmen. It was like the way Jude Carmen snapped at Wesslogia. She didn't like it.

"Mama said to not play on the streets," she spoke calmly, breathing in and out while her voice remained small as a child's, "I didn't listen to her. She got mad and scolded me. I cried."

"Lucy? What the hell are you talking about?" his snappy tone sustained into a semi–polite sentence, his hand gripping her wrist lowering.

Her chocolate eyes immediately jerked up to counteract his, masked with bewilderment. Her mouth was slightly hanging mouth. Lucy was at a loss for words as slowly her ears loaded into her brain what she'd just recited. It was his–_his_–fault. He'd caught her off guard. No, no, no.

He wasn't suppose to know anything about her.

"Lucy," his fingers twisted around the back of her ear, "I thought your mother was dead."

"Yeah. She is."

"How did she–"

"It was when I was a kid," the blond girl's hand wrapped onto his hand that held close to her wrist, "I'm fine."

_I need to calm down._

Her shoes shifted as she thought of five things she could use to calm herself with:

_1. Freed is gay._

_2. Laxus is a royal pain in the ass._

_3. Sting has a sister complex._

_4. Rogue still watches Power Rangers._

_5. Gajeel still believes in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus and has horrible fashion sense._

She blinked while her mouth pulled into a grin, "I stopped some bullies trying to rob an underclassmen."

Natsu's frown stayed put as he leaned in forward to her, his head coming less than one inch from hers. He was poisonously close to her. The kind of strawberry poisonous that'll slit into your tongue, making you want to.

Natsu's eyes, exploding with dancing lights, shut as the hand behind her ear curled, lightly drawing her close. Too lost in the moment to wander back. Too close for comfort and security. Too, too close. The drumming hidden in the blood dancing along the tunnels of her veins and the certain anticipation that tricked her head into believing the dupes of her heart.

Natsu was leaning in down to her level, his lips barely parted. His eyes were closed, and she was beginning to follow his lead. As he pulled her into his snare–his death trap–Lucy paused and pinched her thigh with her free hand, letting herself know; this was not a dream. Reality. It was going to grab her and snap her bones into halves. But, Lucy didn't care.

A strawberry lollipop was enough to satisfy her appetite.

* * *

"You lied, Lucy," his hand tangled in her own as her glance was aimed at the speaking pink haired boy, "Nobody robs underclassmen on Strawberry Street. Too little commotion to even attract rebels."

"It's raspberry thorns. Spetto from the local gardening shop asked me to help her with her raspberry bushes. She told me to get the clippers, and she didn't know they were under a bush," her eyes averted to the bloody scarf around his throat as she easily ran pass a lie, "You're not suppose to know since I skipped class for this because Spetto is a nice old lady and didn't know. Better yet forgot."

Natsu's hand released hers then wrapped behind his head, "Hehe! I get it now.~"

The playful spring in his voice reminded her of the day they'd met at Crocus Park. He was freezing her to death back then. Now, he was her personal fireplace, bursting with sparks and warmth. Only she had yet to discover why.

He walked ahead of her a few paces before twirling around on his heels and laughing at her, childishly, "You're becoming delinquent, Luce!~"

A smile pecked her lips as Carmen Academy's school gates rose into view. That smile quickly flipped upside down.

"Lucy–flippin'–Heartfilia!"_ he_ came dashing toward her and Natsu in some kind of 16th century prince outfit with the fancy cape and everything. Bullshit.

"Lucy?" his jog halted as he thoroughly inspected every aspect of Natsu Dragneel within the short timespan of 3.5 seconds as his head bobbed up and down, "Who the fuck is this?"

"Sting," she sighed at her unbelievably idiotic brother who she was fully disappointed in as she punctuated her words with causal hand gestures to the said party, "this is Natsu. Natsu, this is my disappointment of a brother, Sting."

They stood there for a moment, Natsu and Sting, eyeing each other like those cowboy showdowns with the one bullet scenario. She never wanted these two people to ever meet. Why?

Sting was a disappointment.

"Oh dude," Natsu fell down on his knees first to Lucy's surprise as he held his nose, something red dripping down his hand, "You never said your brother was_ this_ hot. Actually, you never said you had_ a_ brother at all."

"Hey, Natsu?" Lucy squatted to Natsu's level while her eyes narrowed in disbelief, "Are you having a nosebleed over my friggin' brother?"

"Being hot even with my hair in blunt red alert is something always in my reach," Sting flaunted, his hand behind his neck and the other on his hip as he modestly struck a pose.

"Oh my god, Sting," the blond haired girl shook her head, her hand smacking her forehead.

"What? You can't even admire the awesomeness of your own brother?" Sting's smirk widened as he leaned down to tower over his little sister.

"No," Lucy denied with another dull shake, "You were never the cool older sibling I've always wanted."

"Oh really?" his eyebrows wiggled as a dazed Natsu with blood dripping on his scarf tilted his head.

"Do you guys have a problem with each other?" his mouth curled back in a curious pout while he attempted to wipe red off his face. This, in reaction, made the two siblings who were a moment ago staring another down shift their gazes to the pink haired individual.

Following along and in unison, Lucy Heartfilia and Sting Eucliffe offhandedly responded to him with:

"She has a brother complex."

"He has a sister complex."

The pair of blond's eyes suddenly jumped onto the other's throat, screaming out in complete harmony,

"I don't have a sister/brother complex, Lucy/Sting!"

"Haha!" Natsu's giggles intercepted Lucy's and Sting's staring contest as he held his gut with his free hand, "You guys are really siblings!"

"Gee, took you–" Sting stopped in between in sentence as he suddenly grabbed Lucy's arm and raised it up, staring with knitted eyebrows, "Lucy, why are there bandages all over your arm? And your face–oh shit–has gross purple bruises!"

Her shoulders shrugged, "I stopped a potential robbery, and leave my bruises alone, Stingy." Her arms crossed after her last phrases, showing off the Hello Kitty bandaids that casted them. A frown stretched across her mouth.

For a second, Lucy witnessed a flash of understanding shine off of Sting's eyes before they disappeared and shifted to Natsu.

"Now that I think about it, why are you with my sister?" Sting Eucliffe took a step closer to him in his brown boots in his prince costume.

"Uh," the pink haired boy's head darted to the side, a little too quickly, "Nothing."

Lucy's fingers brushed over her lips as the two boys consoled each other. Strawberries were really sweet. Unbelievably sugary. Pink.

"Sting!" his best friend came racing out of the school gates, cloaked in heavy armor, "We're not done rehearsing!"

"Oh, Rogue!" Sting's giddy smile returned as his head twisted to him, "Yeah! I'm coming, sweetie!"

"Lucy," Rogue's pace slowed while his eyes locked onto hers, "H–Hey."

Yukino. She knew Rogue liked Yukino… and Sting liked some friggin' random named Minerva.

Lucy smiled to him, bruises making her jaw ache, "Hi, Rogue." Then, Lucy winked–as hard and painful as that was–suggestively to ensure Rogue that she wasn't going to tell. Yet.

The wink passed from Lucy to Rogue in the eyes of Natsu and Sting was mistaken for some kind of seduction for the black haired boy.

"Rogue, my sister is not on the market."

"Back off, emo flap."

Sting and Natsu looked at each other as their hands both clutched the hidden collar of Rogue's shirt under his armor. Apparently, they were both trying to kill Rogue mentally at the same time. What fun.

"Bye, guys," Lucy's hand waved at the trio from a far away distance at the school's entrance doors, a long ways away from the school gates, before she turned and entered the school again.

"Pl–Please don't leave me," Rogue whimpered desperately under his breath, regretting coming outside to retrieve Sting for rehearsal for the drama club's play, "Frederick and Yanderica". And that day was the weakest moment Rogue Cheney had ever experienced in his years of living.

Natsu's fist raised, aiming for a blow in the poor black haired boy's eye. The spray of ember flickered off Natsu's irises, something heating between monster and demon, as the hit could be heard by the entire school.

* * *

Lucy wasn't sure what to do ever since she'd ditched Rogue. But sitting in an empty classroom seemed reasonable enough, so she sat in a chair in her English classroom with an envelope in her hand. The one Rogue had handed to her a while back.

The dumb cat drawing was dumb. She couldn't figure out what it was. So it was useless to her. She crumpled it into a wad.

As Lucy began to position herself to chuck the wad of paper into the trash can feet away from her, a voice addressed to her blasted into her ears, "Blondie, I thought you were better than that."

Her head darted to the figure of Siegrain Fernandes leaning against the frame of the door to her right.

The hand with the paper opened and gestured toward him, "You sent this?"

"Well, duh," he rolled his eyes as if it were obvious, "You were suppose to meet up with me at the water fountain in the west building the moment you got this."

"How was I suppose to know that," her eyes dropped, suddenly uninterested with the situation.

"Well," his sassy tone perked up to explain to her his nonsense, his eyes shutting sarcastically, "The opposite of a cat is a dog. You're suppose to get that from the color of the crayon I used–orange. Dogs drink from what? Water fountain or else they'll choke and die from dehydration. Since the cat was drawn so its head faced left, you should have figured out that you were suppose to go over to the west building."

"And I just assumed it was a_ stupid _picture from some retarded idiot," Lucy intimated his crossed arms as she stood up from her seat.

Siegrain's eyes narrowed, "Are you insulting me?"

"Sorry," she flipped loose hair over her shoulder, "I still have a bad mouth from speaking with my brother."

"Understandable. Now get it under control," he frowned, now walking toward her and slapping his hand on her desk, "Now about the conditions."

"It was one condition," she spoke aloud.

"Smart mouth, shut it," his head snapped back to her, "I want information."

"I don't know anything."

"What?" Siegrain's voice cracked, "You didn't get _anything_ within the past few hours?"

"I ain't express shipping."

They stared at each other, Siegrain's mouth dropping open.

"I said it was urgent! Urgent is now!" his eyebrows furrowed in displease, his fists tightening at his sides. Whiney much.

"It's not easy to find someone," she argued in her defense in a stale tone.

"She has the most unique color of death!" he protested, stomping his shoe in emphasis, "And she's pretty!"

Lucy shook her head, "And you don't know her name."

"What's yours then, blond?" the sudden demand and question nearly surprised her as she smiled politely. Smooth.

"Call me Layla."

The urge to lie and to propose such a horrible name came as a bitter thought while she exited the room to Siegrain himself. She hate, hate,_ hated_ Layla.

* * *

"Gajeel," her feet placed themselves into the inside pool area of Carmen as Gajeel twisted his head to look at her.

"Oh crap," he panicked, his hands guiding themselves to pull his black hair.

"What happened to free car washes and lunches?" her arms crossed as her eyebrow rose.

"Oh, Lushey," a blue head popped out the the pool water in her school swimsuit.

"Juvia," Lucy strolled over the poolside and extended a hand, "You like water, right?"

"Juvia is water," she ducked back down into the water, swimming around until she popped back up, "Juvia is the swim captain after all."

"Gajeel needs to wash my car," Lucy pointed to Gajeel whose shoulders shot up tensely.

"Gajeel, baby!" Juvia immediately sprung out of the pool and raced over to Gajeel who began to run away from her, "Juvia did not know water is Gajeel's element, too!~"

"If you forgot, it's the yellow buggy in the second row and closest to the left!" Lucy's voice hollered to Gajeel as he sprinted away from Juvia.

"Ain't you mockin' me!?" he screamed back panicly.

She smiled and observed the blue haired girl, still in her swimsuit, chase after some guy with a hella ton of piercings. No one has ever escaped the wrath of Juvia Lockser when she was excited..

* * *

"And that consists of my history project," Sting was sitting across from her at the dining table, eating a plate of meatloaf he'd cooked for dinner.

Lucy chewed the last of her plate, nodding in approval.

_Ding–dong._

She stood up from her seat, holding a hand up to her brother before exiting the kitchen and opening the front door to see who rang the doorbell.

As soon as the door opened, a friendly punch in the cheek greeted her. She held her cheek in displeasure and frowned at the man standing before her.

"So you escaped Laxus and his gang?" she eyed the purple haired man with went by the name of Eryk breathing in front of her.

"Yeah, and let me tell you this once; I am not the boss of Raven Tail in the Strawberry sector," he scowled while he shook the hand he'd hit her with, "He was out that day, but I wanna make a trade with you."

"How do you know my address?" she brushed off his offer, still rubbing her cheek unconsciously.

"I have a degree in psychology. It's not that hard to ask with mind–stabling drugs to your right," Eryk pulled out a set of small tubes with yellow liquids floating inside from his pocket.

"Should have known," the girl rolled her eyeballs, raising her head a bit, "it's a bit messy over there."

"They really have it at Vermillion Tales?" Eryk slipped his tubes back into his pocket.

"They have the hide–out there," she nodded her head in agreement, "Laxus likes it high–classed."

"You're in Fairy Tail, right?" he switched the subject back over into the offer, "Do you know a girl by the name of Cubellios?"

"I haven't been there in a while," her voice shivered, a little too soft to be frightful.

A suppressed sigh released from Eryk's mouth, "Do you want your part of the trade?"

"Almost forgot about it. Yes."

"Nobody knows the substitute boss' real name or even what he looks like. He wears a mask, but I don't like him. If you had told me you were looking for him, I would have handed him over right away."

Lucy stared at him, her fingers testing how much pressure she could put on her cheek before the pain bit to her nerves, "What do they call him then?"

* * *

"Hi, Sting," the blond haired girl returned from the door into the kitchen, claiming again her seat to the dining table.

"So who was it? Somethin' to do with those cuts I saw earlier?" he stood in front of the kitchen sink, behind her, absently washing the dishes.

"Yeah." she turned in her chair, nearly out of breath, "Yeah, I went to raid a Raven Tail hide–out after lunch. I was supposed to get their substitute boss for Laxus."

"Substitute boss?" Sting's voice cracked in curiosity, his head slightly shifting away from the plates but still working on them.

"Uh–huh. I accidently got the wrong guy," Lucy nodded as she threw her arms behind her neck, "I guess Laxus is mad. How's your place?"

"G–Good," Sting's voice is small. His fingers were smoldered with foamy soap as they curled around the cup in his grip.

Lucy's composed "cheery" mood dumped into the trash can while her eyes fluttered to a disappointed stare.

"Sting," her head pointed in his direction as he quietly cleaned the dishes, his eyes focused on what his hands were doing, "Sting, we promised. No more secrets."

"Sting," she repeated, hardening, as the running faucet clogged noise into her icy pauses, "How's Sabertooth."

Her brother stared down at the white fluff stuck to his fingers, occasionally washing away whenever they brushed the running water. He had his sponge pressed at the same plate for too long now.

_"Fine!"_ her now unconcealed anger bursted into the room as something ripped itself from her chest, her legs suddenly stood up from her seat, "Don't tell me! My God, Sting!"

Lucy stomped out of the room, heading straight to her room with her fingers shaking abnormally for somebody like her. Only the faucet sink's rushing water against a cup directly underneath it, clawing at the apartment's unusually tense and silent aura screaming at its residents.

* * *

The morning wasn't suppose to be awkward, but the moment Lucy had busted out of her room, from the door across from her, a blond headed mess erupted from his sleep, unlike her still in his pajamas. And the moment they saw the other, they froze before retreating back into their rooms, slamming the doors shut in unison.

The door pressed roughly against her back, the outline of her irises defined by her heavy panting. Carefully after recollecting her thoughts, Lucy popped out of her room, her head darting left and right for signs of her brother. When they were negative, she hurried downstairs and out of the door of the apartment, not wanting to come across him again.

Sting was a disappointment. She'd always known that.

As she escaped the smoke of her apartment, a familiar pink haired caught her attention passing by about two stories below her.

"Natsu!" her voice sounded more panicky than usual, her hand waving to the boy's turning head.

"Lucy?" he responded with surprise as his now spotless scarf shifted in the autumn breeze, "You live in this apartment complex?"

She raced down the two flights of stairs she had to take before arriving on ground level with him, "Yeah!"

Her voice really did sound weird.

"I pass through here everyday. Maybe we should walk to school together or something," his hand stretched to the back of his neck as he sheepishly looked over to the left away from her.

"Of course!"

She didn't sound like that. Her voice was too chirpy and high–pitched. Too_ forced._

"Lucy," he stared at her, tilting his head as he moved his hand to his ear, "Kiss me."

"What?" her voice revered to its original tone, her mouth dropping open with thoughts blossoming into her head.

He chuckled, dipping his head forward and lightly laughing, before he began to walk in the direction of the school, "That's my Lucy."

"Wait, Natsu?" she rushed to catch up with him, her hand brushing over her forehead to check her temperature. Hot. Maybe, just maybe. "Was that a joke?" her eyes darted to him as she strolled beside him, her pink backpack over her shoulders.

"Yup," he smiled, showing off those dazzling white canines, prettying up his white scarf, "Friend of mine told me that if–nevermind."

Lucy watched the sneakers on her feet that she accidentally threw on instead of her maryjanes. She frowned, going back home was not an option. She didn't want to see Sting. She'd gotten mad at him last night so.

So he hated her, right?

Her back arched forward a bit more than her confident self would on a normal basis. As they did when they were little, Sting and she would always get into fights. Pulling each other's hair and screaming at each other, they would argue and stop talking to another at a point.

Even when she and Sting parted ways on the day of Wesslogia's death, they stopped communication all together. For a while, no, for a long, long time, Lucy was angry at Sting. Sting was a disappointment to everyone. He'd let you down and drag you along with him.

One day, _maybe,_ she'd tell Natsu about the things Sting had done because he was so weak, such a disappointment. She'd learned her lesson. Never expect so much from somebody–_Sting_–who couldn't return your high expectations.

He was like her in a way; so weak that he'd fake it to look strong.

"Lucy," Natsu called after her, a few paces ahead of her, "Are you paying attention?"

Lucy lifted her head from the concrete under her shoes, meeting Natsu's sparkling eye, pricking her with shards of burning ember. A mystified expression stuck to her cheek as Natsu's little grin seemed to explode into happiness.

As her thoughts returned to the subject of Sting, she listened to him ring, "I think it's gotta be sunny this afternoon."

"I guess so," she responded, tilting her head back to the ground until a certain yellow buggy flashed past the corner of her eyes, racing away from her on the road. Sting. He was driving that yellow buggy they shared.

The buggy turned left at the intersection ahead of her, speeding at miles faster than the other vehicles around it. Sting was avoiding her, without noticing, she frowned disappointingly.

Sting was a coward and a disappointment.

"Lucy."

There was a part of her expecting Sting to pull up the car beside her and smile, gesturing her to come in with the windows rolled down.

"Lucy."

"Natsu?" she started to jog in front of him, her backpack swinging behind her.

She could feel his scowl from back her, his pink, cherry–ish eyebrows knitting together, "Don't focus on anything else but me."

"I'm busy," she replied subconsciously as her eyes quivered up to the sun, shining in the wrong spot behind a pine tree, "Really busy."

"Lucy!" he spoke louder this time as she kept walking without faltering.

When she and Sting were kids after they'd had an argument, they went a week without speaking to each other, both too stubborn to make up. It was always Wesslogia who helped and forced them to make up as they always ended up crying in the end.

But Wesslogia was dead and buried in a box underground. Now who was supposed to mend the distance of their constant siblingship rivalries and wars?

"Natsu," she suddenly spun around to face him as dots of pink glowed on her cheeks, she was so suddenly deciding to lay down her pride, "Kiss me for real this time."

* * *

_{If you can distract me long enough, maybe I'll stop thinking._

_Thinking about all these complications._

_And maybe I'll start thinking only about you.}_

* * *

**Author's Note: We had this awesome snow day on Tuesday, and I got a ton of time to write crack. Yeah, don't got much to say, but if I don't get the next chapter before Christmas, well, merry Christmas!**

**Remember to review your opinions of this chapter 'cause it helps me a lot!~ Sorta.**

**I kinda pity Sting in this chapter though because Lucy keeps downsizing him. Natsu's said something weird, and now Lucy. Oh my god, Lucy.**


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